Inter-College Unity
by commander-empyreal
Summary: The New York University and New York Institute have been rivals for years. The pranks have finally gotten out of hand, so the administrators have decided to do something about it. To promote inter-college unity, the colleges are instituting a program that will group up troublemakers from both colleges and force them to learn how to coexist peacefully both in and outside of class.
1. Prologue

_This is my first fanfic, so any constructive feedback or advice is appreciated! Happy reading!  
_ **** Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. ****

* * *

"If they think they're getting away with it, they're sorely mistaken," Clary muttered, tossing cans of bright violet spray paint into a backpack. "How dare they come onto our campus and deface our classrooms? There wasn't even a big game coming up - it's unacceptable."

"Are you sure about this vendetta, Clary?" Simon asked, pausing his search for working batteries to address his roommate. "I mean, there are at least 34 guys on the soccer team who are capable of doing way more damage than we could ever dream of, and that's not even including all of the hangers-on that are bound to accompany them."

"That rationale worked in the past, but this time it's personal. My mom's art room was one of the classrooms that got destroyed by the Institute's last raid, remember? They deserve a little payback from the art department. Besides, since I'm coming, this time the spray paint will look good, and it's going to be more lasting than their usual obnoxious stickers and posters and rearranging furniture."

"Yeah, it'll take them two days to clean up instead of one, how spectacular," Simon muttered.

"What happened to my cheerfully optimistic best friend?" Clary demanded, tucking her bright red hair beneath a black skullcap. "He would support my decisions."

"He disappears when he's tired. He also supports not getting kicked out of college over something stupid," Simon replied, finally finding batteries for their flashlights and following Clary out of their apartment and down to the waiting cars.

"They've been doing raids for years, and they're all still enrolled," Clary pointed out. "If it was even slightly dangerous, not as many people would do it."

"Good to see you made the right decision, Biscuit," Magnus grinned as Clary climbed into his car, his usually flamboyant makeup restricted to dark blue and black. "This prank is going to be ten times more epic now." 

"I didn't know you were coming, Magnus - I thought we were riding with Raphael," Clary said.

"Raphael is coming, he's just in a different car at the moment finalizing things with Bat," Magnus replied. "He badgered me into being his getaway driver this time. Apparently, the other guys on the soccer team don't realize that half of escaping effectively is driving normally and they get pulled over, which ruins the entire surprise."

"So they do get caught every time. That certainly won't be a problem," Simon muttered.

"I have no intentions of getting caught, so you're in safe hands," Magnus waved the concern away.

"If anything, the number of times they've gotten caught and never received consequences is just further reassurance that there's nothing to worry about," Raphael interrupted, slipping into the passenger seat. "Besides, Magnus is the only levelheaded driver in all of New York. There's no chance we'll be pulled over, especially with the others to divert attention from us. Just relax. It'll be a fun Saturday night."

"You know, most people consider a fun night to be a party, or going to see a movie with friends," Simon said. "I don't know who thinks to themselves, 'Hey! Know what would be fun? Running over to our rival college and destroying their property.'"

"They started it. They even posted pictures on their social media pages in the middle of the night to prove it."

"They could have just happened to wander into the area shortly after the incident went down. They're innocent until proven guilty, right?"

"My mom said they got caught on the security cameras. The only reason it's not plastered all over NYU is because the Institute wanted to take care of things privately, whatever that means," Clary said. "But Sebastian Verlac peed in my Mom's potted plant. This means revenge."

"I can't say it's uncharacteristic of Sebastian, but I didn't realize art teachers were so hated," Raphael mused.

"You know, that's kind of gross, Biscuit," Magnus said, wrinkling his nose.

"Then you understand why I'm coming this time, after sitting out through an entire year of raids," Clary said.

"I suppose that's a better reason than most have," Magnus acknowledged.

The Institute was dark when the caravan arrived. They parked in front of the Institute's cathedral, the most famous building in the entire college. The one that would generate the most attention from media sources and outrage from the student body.

"Are you sure this isn't a trap?" Simon asked nervously. "I mean, they did just attack our school. They probably have people camping out here just waiting for a counterattack."

"They pulled their prank last week just before we all left for fall break, so whatever precautions the students took have undoubtedly fallen to the wayside," Raphael replied. "And the school won't do anything, because that would mean admitting their students did something wrong. Relax - we've done this a hundred times. Nobody comes until it's too late."

"Simon, do you need to stay in the car with Magnus?" Clary offered.

"No, I'm not afraid. Anything you can do I'm going to at least attempt, Fray." Simon plastered a fake grin on his face as they followed the soccer players into the cathedral.

"Freshmen and Sophomores in the back corners," Bat Velasquez, the captain of the soccer team, ordered as people filtered through the double doors. "Juniors and Seniors get the front, as usual. We'll be comparing corners at the end, so make your grade level proud. But remember - no leaving your name on anything, and no bragging about your own handiwork after the fact."

A muted cheer rose among the group as they spread out around the cathedral. "Isn't this church old enough to be considered a priceless artifact?" Simon wondered aloud. "I wonder what my mom would think if she could see us now."

"You're Jewish, not Catholic, Si. I think she'd forgive you after a little bit of good-natured scolding," Clary reminded him, shaking up a can of violet spray paint. "Now hold the light steady for me. I want this to be the best spray-painted torch they've ever seen."

When Clary was halfway through spray painting her second torch, the cathedral's chandeliers flared to life. The fluorescent lights seemed out of place in the gothic building, all the more jarring because they were under strict instructions _not_ to turn on any overhead lights. Flashlights only.

"I can't believe that my students would stoop to this level of debauchery," the President of NYU exclaimed, her shrill voice echoing through the cathedral and making many of the soccer players flinch. "When I got a call that my students were attempting to deface Institute's cathedral, I told them it couldn't possibly be true. It's a shame that I've been proven wrong."

"Is this the part where we run?" Simon whispered.

"I think that ship has sailed, my friend," Clary replied, glancing over at upperclassmen who were reluctantly putting down their weapons of destruction. They had barely made a dent in the cathedral, with only a few rolls of toilet paper hanging from the rafters, some half-hung posters, and some rushed spray-painted not-quite-torches lining the walls.

"And don't worry about your friends outside - they're not getting away any more easily than you are," the president continued. "Provide us with your names and student IDs on the way out, please. I've spoken with Headmaster Aldertree, and he agrees that this feud is getting out of hand.

"He's proposed a solution that I'm quite taken with and I expect will be quite beneficial to both of our schools. We'll provide you all with more details later on - just know that the alternative to accepting this compromise is expulsion, effective immediately."

Simon groaned. "I should have just trusted my instincts and made you stay home with me."

"Hey, at least we'll have a great story to tell your kids someday," Clary replied sheepishly.

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯*¯\\_(ツ)_/¯*¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"I can't imagine a single good thing that comes with a personality test. Not a single one," Jace complained, glowering at his computer in disdain. "I mean, favorite diner? How could that possibly be relevant to anything even remotely useful? What happened to our mandatory community service on NYU's campus?"

"We've all taken the quiz, Jace. You don't need to remind us of the questions," Alec said absently, flipping through the pages of one of his business textbooks. "And weren't you just complaining about the community service yesterday? I would have thought you'd appreciate the change."

"That was before I realized how suspicious it would look," Jace muttered. "I mean, I know our prank was spectacular, but I've never known Headmaster Aldertree to change his mind once it's been made up. And I can't imagine he's managed to think up something more nauseating than doing community service for our rivals."

That morning the majority of the Institute's soccer and cheerleading team involved in last week's prank had been sent a survey, with the only explanation being: 'This will be replacing the mandatory community service. Ensure your Saturday mornings remain free. More details will follow as necessary.'

"I think it could be fun," Isabelle announced, sauntering into the room and snagging an apple. "More fun than picking up trash, anyways."

"Everything is more fun than picking up trash. Studying, for instance," Alec said, gesturing at the tower of textbooks strewn across the dining room table.

"We haven't had class for nearly a week, Alec. At least give me two weeks to fall behind before you start telling me to study."

"It's never too early to start getting ahead. Besides, you should be glad I'm already on top of things. Otherwise neither of you would know about the survey. You should try being prepared sometime."

"But we want you to feel needed, Alec," Isabelle replied, batting her long lashes at him.

"Exactly. And now I think that I need you to join me on a trip to Taki's," Jace said, shutting his computer and tossing it to the other side of the couch. "What better way to celebrate a Sunday afternoon than with a trip to my favorite diner?"

"Just to Taki's?" Alec asked suspiciously. "Because I distinctly recall this same excuse being used last week when I was tricked into getting in trouble for a raid on NYU that I didn't know was happening, and wanted no part of anyway."

"C'mon Alec, I already apologized for that one. And is it that hard to believe that I just need a break? I've worked too hard for a Sunday already. Even you can't deny that this much effort deserves a trip to Taki's."

"You think everything deserves a trip to Taki's," Alec replied as he was closing his textbooks. "And for the record, you never actually said sorry."

"And I'm always right when it comes to trips to Taki's," Jace replied, ignoring Alec's last statement as he led the way out of the apartment the Lightwood siblings shared.

Fifteen minutes later, the Lightwoods stopped in front of a tall grey brick building. Alec crossed his arms and glowered at his brother. "This is not Taki's."

"Acute observation, Alec," Jace said, holding the door open for his siblings to enter the Institute's administrative building. "Don't worry, this is just a brief detour along the way. If they don't want to tell us anything through email, maybe we can convince them to let something slip in person."

"Why does this sound like a bad idea?" Alec groaned.

"Because you're a killjoy," Jace replied, flashing a brilliant smile at the secretary. A few minutes later he had convinced her to let them into Headmaster Aldertree's office for an impromptu appointment.

"Buck up, Alec. This is going to be great. Besides, you can't honestly tell me that you aren't even a little bit curious about how you're being sentenced to waste your Saturdays for the rest of the semester," Jace said on the way down the hall to the headmaster's office.

"I've made it a habit not to wake up before two on the weekends, and I'd like to know why I have to change my schedule," Isabelle added.

"You could have gone on your own, you know," Alec said. "As I recall, we had this same discussion after the last time you said we were going to Taki's and ended up somewhere else."

"We were going to go to Taki's," Jace replied, pausing outside of Headmaster Aldertree's office to straighten his collar. "Just afterwards. It's not my fault you threw a tantrum and wanted to go straight back to the apartment after we got caught. Now smile. We all know you're Aldertree's favorite."

"I don't know why you keep believing Jace when he says we're going to Taki's," Isabelle added before following Jace into the office.

"I just want to have decent coffee for once. And Jace only goes when Kaelie's working and she always brews fresh coffee when he shows up. Besides, someone needs to keep the two of them from doing something they'll regret," Alec muttered to himself.

Headmaster Aldertree didn't look up when they entered, his attention focused on the documents before him. He made the Lightwoods wait a full three minutes before he finally acknowledged them, "Ah, all three of the Lightwoods. To what do I owe this visit?"

"We know you're a busy man, so we'll just cut straight to business," Jace replied. "We'd like to know what the sudden change in plans regarding the raid on NYU is all about. What happened to the community service? What do personality tests have to do with anything?"

"I believe you were provided with all the information your instructor wanted you to have; I'm not entirely certain what more you want me to tell you," Headmaster Aldertree replied.

"I think that this lack of transparency is unacceptable," Isabelle interjected. "How are we supposed to mentally prepare to do our best on Saturday if we don't know what to prepare for? How will we dress? Where are we supposed to go? What if someone has an obnoxious reaction because they didn't have time to come to terms with what was going to happen?"

"I have faith in your acting skills, Isabelle," the headmaster replied unwaveringly. "And I expect you to help me rebuild my faith in your ability to follow the rules that have been set."

"And if we refuse to show up to a mysterious location on Saturday?" Jace demanded. "I hate surprises, and I'm certain our parents would support our decision."

"We've already run our decision past your parents, and they've accepted the deal on your behalf," Headmaster Aldertree replied. "In fact, they asked me to let them know if any of you continued to misbehave, because they wanted to ensure the Lightwood reputation was not tarnished by childish lapses in judgement.

"But if you really want to know the alternative, it still stands as permanent expulsion. The expectation is that you will comply with what is asked of you by the instructors, or we will also have no choice but to remove you and Isabelle from your spots on the soccer and cheerleading teams, and potentially your place at the Institute altogether."

Two of the Lightwood siblings gasped in horror. "You can't do that - we've been training so hard, and I'm the captain this year," Izzy protested.

"And the big NCAA tournament starts next month," Jace added. "This is the first time in nearly a decade that we've qualified for division one! We'll lose if you bench me."

"Then I guess you'll both be on your best behavior, now won't you?" the Headmaster straightened the files on his desk, turning his attention to Alec. "Unless you had a legitimate question, Alexander, the three of you are dismissed. Any further concerns will be addressed by the instructors on Saturday."

Izzy huffed as she got to her feet, somehow managing to storm out of the room even with nine-inch heels on. Jace trailed after her, casting a withering glance back at the headmaster before rounding the corner.

"Thank you for your time, Headmaster Aldertree," Alec said before following his siblings out of the office. He nodded to the secretary as they passed.

"Are you happy now? You got no answers, the Headmaster is annoyed at you, and it's starting to rain," Alec said, squinting up at the dreary gray sky.

"You need to be more observant, Alec, because the headmaster practically told us exactly what we were doing. Instructors, remember? He's enrolled us in some kind of class, probably something anger management or communications-related. Better than community service, by any means, and we won't have to deal with spending an hour surrounded by kids from NYU every Saturday."

"So it's going to be a class instead of trash collection. How does knowing that help anything?" Alec asked.

"You never know when information will come in handy," Jace replied. "But if that's not enough for you, I'm sure you could convince Mom or Dad to tell you the real details, Alec. But I, for one, and starving, so let's go get some food."


	2. Chapter One

**** Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. ****

* * *

"On the list of things I'm definitely going to hate, this class ranks pretty high up on the spectrum." Jace wrinkled his nose at the cramped classroom that smelled faintly of chemicals and cleaning supplies.

They had gotten an email early that morning telling them to arrive at the public library at precisely 10:00am for their Saturday punishment. From there they had been directed to a room that was allegedly renovated within the past year, but Jace had his doubts. At the very least, whoever was responsible for the renovation did not have the fashion sense of a normal human being.

The wallpaper looked as though sunflowers had thrown up all over it, and the posters lining the walls were nauseatingly inspirational. It looked like the office of a middle school guidance counselor, not a classroom that any self-respecting college student should ever be forced to enter. Not to mention the library was insanely far away from campus.

Jace hadn't thought anything could be worse than the design of the classroom, but he was quickly proven wrong. They were the first ones there - Alec had insisted they show up early, and Jace and Isabelle were both too exhausted and disoriented to argue with him - but now that other people were showing up the tension in the room skyrocketed exponentially.

Jace's friends and teammates from the Institute were arriving, of course, but for some reason people he recognized from NYU's soccer team were showing up as well. They kept their distance, limiting their interactions to a scowl and a subtle middle finger. But why were they there in the first place?

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Alec said, easily the only truly optimistic one in the entire room. For the most part he avoided the rivalry between the two schools, and as a result he wasn't the prime target of the constant stream of dirty glares coming from NYU. Jace and Isabelle were not so lucky.

Jace recognized most of the people there, some from sporting events and others from the raids and pranks between the two colleges. He paid special attention to the ones that he didn't want to so much as stand next to, most of whom were from the school soccer team. Jace was the one of the starting midfielders for the Institute - it was just impossible to play nicely with enemy athletes. Luckily they stuck to the far side of the room.

"I still think anything that does not involve touching trash should be considered fun," Isabelle announced, but the enthusiasm in her voice didn't match her expression.

"Everything is more fun than picking up trash," Jace muttered. He knew Isabelle's announcement was solely for show, most likely because their parents had called them the night before and lectured them on the importance of civility and cordiality to the Lightwood reputation. If only their parents had warned them about what they would be facing.

"Besides, nobody here looks awful. In fact, most of them are pretty cute," Isabelle pointed out. "And NYU throws the best parties."

"You'd throw your school pride away for a good party?" Jace arched an eyebrow at his sister, momentarily distracted from his scrutiny of the people entering the room. Even with their parents' expectations looming over their heads, that seemed a little excessive.

"Even you can't deny that the parties at the Institute can be severely lacking sometimes," Isabelle replied defensively. "And expensive alcohol does not automatically make a party great. It just makes it a good place to gather blackmail and humiliating stories."

"I'm almost ashamed to think that we're family," Jace shook his head sadly.

"Then you'll never want to hear my comparisons of our school fashion departments."

Before Isabelle could launch into the inevitable discussion on fashion, the shrill scrape of a chair being shoved followed by a loud thud echoed through the room. Jace's attention jerked back to the NYU side of the classroom where he saw Sebastian looming over Bat Velasquez, the captain of NYU's soccer team. Bat was on the floor and his chair was in Sebastian's hands.

Jace groaned. It was too early on a Saturday morning to start this kind of drama, no matter how annoying the NYU students were. Immediately the room erupted into shouting, nearly everyone surging to their feet and surrounding the pair, who were shouting curses at each other at the top of their lungs.

Jace would have joined in on the fun if it weren't for Alec's hand digging into his arm. Isabelle was similarly restrained, and doing her best to break free from Alec's grip. There were only three other people voluntarily avoiding the fight, a redheaded girl, a skinny rat-faced nerd, and a guy with more glittery makeup on than Isabelle.

Of the three of them he only recognized the glittery guy, and then only because it was impossible to forget someone who stood out so much. He hung around Raphael a lot, and Jace had seen him once or twice during the raids. But the other two were completely foreign, and Jace was certain he would have remembered the girl if he had ever seen her before.

Jace was drawn back to reality by the sound of something tearing. Based on the shouts that rose from the bystanders, he was nearly certain that the situation would escalate into a fight. He saw Sebastian and Bat lunging at each other over the heads of the people surrounding them when he heard the unmistakable sharp thuds of Professor Starkweather's heavy metal boots.

Jace was almost glad to be sitting; he'd hate to get on the professor's bad side so early on. Especially if he was going to have to deal with him every Saturday for the rest of the semester.

"You will stop this nonsense immediately," Professor Starkweather barked, storming into the room. He was followed closely by a short redheaded professor from NYU, Professor Fray, who was wringing her hands helplessly and acting as though she'd never seen kids fighting before.

Sebastian froze immediately, used to the professor's commands. Bat was not so well-trained, and swung at Sebastian anyways. He didn't land the hit; Professor Starkweather caught his arm, twisting it behind his back and pulling it painfully and wrestling Bat into submission.

Professor Fray tugged on Professor Starkweather's arm until he released Bat, the entire time whispering fervently about proper treatment of students, and how they couldn't just expel everyone before the class even started. Jace couldn't help but snort. He doubted anyone could curb Professor Starkweather's warped sense of discipline.

Professor Starkweather had served in the military for just over thirteen years before being dishonorably discharged, and he had never quite adjusted to life in civilian society. He was probably one of the few people with the talents necessary to control a classroom full of students from the Institute and the University without having things end in bloodshed.

Professor Starkweather glowered at the class as Professor Fray led him to the front of the room. She dropped a haphazardly ordered stack of papers and folders on the desk at the front of the room before writing her name on the whiteboard in elaborate cursive. Professor Starkweather copied her in neat, blocky letters.

"I'm Professor Fray," she said, smiling at the class and tucking a wayward strand of red hair behind her ear. They could not have found two more complete opposites to teach the class if they tried. "I teach art at New York University, and I'll be one of your instructors this semester."

"I'm Professor Starkweather. I'm in charge of the military program at the New York Institute and I will be your other instructor this semester," Professor Starkweather said, a permanent scowl affixed to his face. He looked as though he would rather be anywhere but standing before them.

The Institute must have had a pretty significant incentive to convince Professor Starkweather to teach the class, because he was known to be very outspoken against NYU. He was a good choice, though; Jace doubted the program could succeed without him. They probably picked Professor Starkweather first, and then chose Professor Fray to try and balance him out.

"As you've heard by now, you're all here to promote inter-college unity," Professor Fray announced, smiling around the room. "As some of you may already know, we'll be pairing students from the University with students from the Institute, with the understanding that you will be working together throughout the semester on various team-building, collaborative assignments. As additional incentive to do your best in this program, participation in this program will count as a pass-fail graded class for all of you.

"I know you've all taken the compatibility survey. Those were administered so that we could try and pair you up with people that we feel you could become friends with. However, considering you're all here for a reason, you'll both have to put forth effort to find the connections and make the relationship work. After all, this class is about learning to cooperate with people that you feel are different from you. Any questions before I announce partner assignments?"

Nobody raised their hands. The lack of enthusiasm in the room was palpable but Professor Fray kept smiling anyways, as though that was exactly the response she wanted.

"Today is going to be a more relaxed class so that you can begin getting to know your partners and come to terms with the premise of this program. We will give you more information about the specific requirements of the program towards the end of the allotted hour. When you hear your name, move to stand with your partner in the back of the room. Hodge?"

Professor Starkweather grabbed a list from the top of Professor Fray's messy pile. "Pair one is Magnus Bane and Alexander Lightwood. Pair two is Simon Lewis and Isabelle Lightwood. Pair three is Jonathan Christopher Lightwood and Clarissa Fray..."

Jace moved to stand by an astonishingly short redheaded girl. He supposed things could be worse. He could be like Isabelle, stuck with the nerdiest looking boy in all of New York. Or Alec, who was stuck with the most obviously gay man Jace had ever seen. What would their parents say about the program if they knew their eldest son was stuck with the epitome of everything they stood against?

Jace scowled as Sebastian was paired with Camille Belcourt, a girl who looked like a supermodel. Why couldn't Jace have been so lucky?

Hodge cleared his throat, scowling as a general warning to anyone who might dare to speak over him. "Be sure to be nice to your partner, because you're stuck with him or her for the rest of the semester. No amount of complaining will convince us to reassign you. Nothing short of your partner dying will get you out of this, and I'm afraid that any form of murder will create much bigger problems for yo-"

"As Hodge was saying, we hope that you'll manage to put aside your differences to create amazing friendships that supersede school traditions," Professor Fray interrupts, shooting her co-instructor a horrified look. "We expect you all to exchange contact information today, and spend the remainder of the period getting to know each other. To help you along, we've got friendship questionnaires that you can fill out together. I will be walking around to make sure you're all on task and to answer any questions you may have."

The class lets out a collective groan before finding seats with their new partners. The desks were on wheels, making it easy to move them around. Almost as though whoever designed the room was scheming to make them collaborate.

"You don't look as though you belong here," Jace said as soon as he and Clary sat down. "You're obviously not an athlete, and I've never seen you at any of the raids. I'm sure I'd remember running into someone like you. So what are you here for? Did you get drafted to make the class numbers even?"

"I'm affronted that you would doubt my ability to cause trouble," Clary said, placing a hand over her heart.

"You can't be serious; you look harmless," Jace replied, arching an eyebrow. "Unless you have brass knuckles hidden somewhere, I doubt there's anything you could to do against anyone here. Except, maybe, the nerd Simon that Izzy got stuck with, and even that's a questionable thing. Quite frankly, I think you might just hurt yourself if you tried it."

"That's just what we want you to think. Really, Me and Si are terrifying - we're just not stupid enough to flaunt it, so unlike you, we've never gotten caught before. For all you know, we've got an entire crime syndicate at our fingertips," Clary replied cheerfully. "Be careful who you're insulting."

"You're joking," Jace said, cringing internally. _Of course_ they'd know each other. With his luck, she'd know Magnus, too. And somehow they'd all conspire to tell his parents about his comments and get him in trouble for not behaving chivalrously.

"Of course," Clary scoffed. "What do you take me for, a crime lord? But just wait until I get my hands on a spray can. I'll tag you with the NYU torch quicker than you can blink."

"Ah," Jace said. "I thought the art on the walls of the Institute looked more appropriate this time. Disappointingly so. I quite missed the usual drawings of -"

"Let's just focus on the assignment," Clary interrupted, scanning the piece of paper. "I go by Clary, by the way."

"I'm Jace, though I'm sure if you didn't recognize me from the magazine spreads I've done with my family, you heard my name when Professor Starkweather was pairing us up," Jace replied with a smirk.

"Actually, I heard I was working with someone named _Jonathan Christopher,_ " Clary replied, arching her eyebrow.

Jace scowled. "Well, I could have sworn your name was Clarissa."

"It is. Nicknames are a thing, _Jonathan Christopher_ , which is why they deserve clarification," Clary retorted. "Now, let's put aside school rivalries before we're the cause another fight and flunk out on our first day of class. So, are you ready to tell me your favorite color?"

"Gold, of course. Are you sure you want to focus on that questionnaire? There are so many more interesting things we could do with our time," Jace replied, winking suggestively. If he was going to have to get to know this girl, he might as well make the most of it.

"My favorite color is emerald green, Jace, thanks for asking," Clary replied, giving Jace an odd look and completely ignoring his innuendo. "What's your favorite type of candy?"

"I don't eat candy," Jace muttered, looking over to Alec, whose face was a burning red and then at Isabelle, who seemed to be holding an awkwardly stilted conversation with her partner who was obviously distracted and uncomfortable. At least he wasn't the only one suffering in this class.

It was going to be a long semester.

* * *

 _For anyone who's gotten this far, thanks for reading! And thanks for all the support this past week, I really appreciate it! I plan on updating on Fridays, if you're curious, but I'm considering posting a bonus chapter or a separate short story early next week in honor of the holidays. That's all the rambling I have for now; have a great day!_


	3. Chapter Two

_I'm SORRY I did NOT mean to disappear. (I think I jinxed myself by announcing my updating plans and letting the universe know it was time to conspire against me). Anyways enjoy the long-awaited chapter! (Really, it's the second part of the last chapter. Ha ha. Sorry again.)  
_ **** Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. ****

* * *

"So how do you feel about video games?" Simon blurted, his leg bouncing beneath the table. Almost immediately he regretted it - he was certain a beautiful girl like Isabelle Lightwood wouldn't be caught dead playing video games. Especially not the video games Simon tended to play. Even Clary barely voluntarily played video games with him - there was no way that Isabelle liked to do it as a hobby.

"Excuse me?" Isabelle asked, a frown creasing her perfect brow. Simon could tell the only reason she was still bothering to speak to him was pity, probably because he had messed up phenomenally by bringing up the one thing that every nerd knows is taboo when it comes to girls.

"Video games," Simon replied, unable to do the reasonable thing and stop himself from speaking. He should have stuck to the stupid questions on the stupid questionnaire, no matter how awkward and stilted they made the conversation. "You know, _Dance Dance Revolution, Super Smash Bros, Mario Kart?"_

"Oh," Isabelle said, sweeping her glossy black hair over her shoulder again. "Yeah, I've heard of those. I knew a guy who played _Call of Duty_ once. At least, I think that was what it was called. Sorry, I'm not really big on video games."

"N-no, that's fine!" Simon said quickly, fidgeting nervously with his pencil. "You've probably got lots of other, more important things to do, being Isabelle Lightwood and all. What do you do in your spare time?"

"I like to experiment with makeup and fashion," Isabelle said carefully.

"C'mon, that doesn't count. Magnus can't shut up about the Lightwood's epic fashion line, and the magazines say that you're half the brains behind that operation - which I say in a totally innocent, non-stalkerish way," Simon said quickly, holding up his hands. "I definitely do not go out of my way to read your magazines. It was just a total accident that I happened to see your name in a few headlines."

"It's okay, Simon, I'm not mad that you've done your research," Isabelle laughed. "In fact, I'd be surprised and know you were lying if you claimed you hadn't heard anything about me. Although I didn't peg you as the type of guy to like fashion magazines. I suppose if I were to ignore makeup and fashion, next on my list would have to be cooking."

"Really? I've never heard that one before," Simon said, looking at Isabelle in awe. She was practically the perfect girl - beautiful, smart, and able to cook. How was he lucky enough to land in this situation?

Isabelle shrugged. "It's a hobby. You'd probably have to dig pretty deep into an interview before it ever came up. It's not as exciting as my work with fashion and makeup."

"I think it's pretty impressive. But let me tell you, if I were as rich as you are, I'd definitely hire a personal chef and never do anything that even remotely resembled chores."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be. It's hard to just sit around and let people do everything for you. Even fashion designs get stale if you study them 24/7; how would you possibly fill all your time if you didn't do any work?"

"Video games, of course. And movies. Those are pretty good at sucking up all my time," Simon replied. He mentally kicked himself for the second time that day. He only just barely escaped the doomed video games conversation, and they were already heading towards an equally dangerous topic.

"I haven't watched a lot of movies, either, for that matter," Isabelle confessed.

"Really? Not even _Mean Girls_ , or _Legally Blonde_?" Simon asked, his eyes widening in shock.

"I feel as though I should be offended that you think I'm the kind of person to like those movies," Isabelle couldn't keep from grinning as Simon stammered his apologies. He looked as though he wished the floor would swallow him up. It was kind of adorable. Not that Isabelle was paying attention to that kind of thing. "But no, I've never had a lot of spare time, so I choose my hobbies carefully. But maybe I just haven't found the right movie yet."

"Admittedly there are a lot of bad ones out there, but the amazing ones make the search worth it," Simon replied, looking relieved. "And you're in luck - I am an expert on all the best movies."

"Oh really? Maybe you'll have to give me a suggestion for a good movie someday," Isabelle leaned back in her chair, glad to have navigated past that potentially disaster. Isabelle thought that years of interviews should have prepared her for any kind of conversation, but talking to Simon was a whole new level of awkward, and disturbingly endearing.

"It's a date," Simon grinned. His face immediately fell and he started waving his hands so wildly Isabelle thought he might knock his glasses off of his face. "I mean, not like a _date_ date, just that we could, you know, I mean, is it getting hot in here?"

Isabelle sighed, and looked enviously over at Alec, who was lucky enough to be paired with the most fashionable man she had ever seen. Unlike Simon, who was acting as though he had never so much as stood next to a girl before and effortlessly jumped from one awkward conversation to another. If she had to be stuck with someone from NYU, she wished they could have been at least as charismatic and cosmetically talented as Magnus Bane.

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Alec had no idea that a person existed who cared enough about sleeves enough to hold a one-sided five-minute conversation on the benefits of different designs.

He thought that answering the question 'What do you want to be when you graduate?' as wanting to take over Lightwood Corporation from his parents was harmless enough, but apparently not. Apparently that meant Alec was an expert on every business Lightwood Co. encompassed, including their fashion line. And Alec wasn't brave enough to interrupt and tell him that Isabelle was the one who wanted to continue their fashion line, so Alec avoided that part of the business entirely.

Alec was rehearsing the words he knew he'd never use to politely interrupt in his head when abruptly the torrent of words coming out of Magnus' mouth stopped. He looked at Alec expectantly and arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, making the blood rush to Alec's pale face.

"C-come again?" Alec stammered, self-consciously doodling in the margins of his paper to keep himself from wringing his hands. Ten minutes into the conversation and things were already taking a turn for the worse.

"I asked why I hadn't seen those beautiful blue eyes in the magazine spreads as often as I see the rest of your family?" Magnus repeated. "At first I thought maybe it was a coincidence that you had the same last name as the other two, but now that I know you're all related, I'm curious."

"Mom and Dad have enough models. They don't need me there, too," Alec replied, counting backwards in his head to try and make his face revert to its normal color. "Besides, I'm not as photogenic as the rest of them."

"Definitely a mistake on your family's part not to have convinced you that you're just as beautiful as the rest of them by now - locking those blue eyes away is definitely an injustice to the rest of the world," Magnus said. Alec couldn't tell if he was serious or not beneath all the makeup.

"Can we just refocus on the worksheet?" Alec asked, staring down in the hopes that his deepening blush would be less visible. He flipped the worksheet over since they had sped through most of the front before getting stuck on that dreaded question. "Magnus, what is one thing you regret having done or not done in your life?"

"That seems like a loaded question, considering the reason we're all here today," Magnus answered wryly, "Nonetheless, Alexander, I must say there are not many things I've done that I regret. After all, my past is what led me here to be here today. I think that's a pretty good trade-off," Magnus purred.

"That's not an answer."

"Fine. Then I think I regret not having opened my own nightclub yet," Magnus finally said. "I definitely plan on doing so one day, and I can't help but be impatient."

"I expected you to say something about fashion," Alec said, gesturing towards Magnus's extravagant outfit.

"Oh, the fashion world is in safe hands with the Lightwoods already," Magnus replied with a wink. "Besides, my role in fashion is just as a visionary, or maybe a critic. In my spare time, I'd like to use the business half of my double major to revitalize the clubbing experience. Clubbing experiences today are all so similar and awfully repetitive. My club would be much different, and far more enjoyable."

"Oh really? And what ideas do you have that would make your club so much better than all the other clubs?" Alec challenged, intrigued at the mention of business.

"Well, for one, I'd be in it. There'd be no better dressed club owner than me," Magnus replied confidently. "And rather than just being a place to drown your sorrows or meet someone for the night, I'd have a more cultured clientele. And by the end of a magical night at my club, it'd be as though their problems really had been magically solved, rather than just aggravated by a splitting hangover.

"What about you, Alexander? What do you regret not having done yet?"

"I regret you hearing the professors call me Alexander," Alec groaned.

"But your name is so beautiful - why shorten it? And besides, I've been calling you Alexander in my head since long before today. So let me rephrase - what do you envision in your future to go with your job running the family business?" Magnus said. Alec sat in a stubborn silence, so Magnus continued on. "Any hobbies? Photography, perhaps? Or marriage? A family? I don't know if I can envision you as the type to have a wife and two kids. You do seem like the type that could be pretty good in a relationship-"

"Can you just drop it?" Alec finally demanded. "I think I preferred it when you were monologuing about fashion."

"I'm sorry to have to cut you off so abruptly, but I'm afraid that's all the time we had scheduled for today," Professor Fray interrupts before Magnus can come up with a retort. "Thank you all for the effort you've put forth this class period," Professor Fray announced nearly an hour later, nearly shouting to be heard over the din of reluctant conversation. "You may take those questionnaires home with you, and use the answers to help you with the additional requirements of the class.

"Make sure you've exchanged contact information, because we expect you to get together at least once a week outside of class. This should not be a massive group gathering, and you should spend at least half the time in close proximity, preferably talking to each other. We ask you to take a picture at each event you attend together and save those for an end-of-program project. Also be prepared to talk about your experience if called upon, to provide others with more ideas of things they could do together."

"And do not lie about your actions," Professor Starkweather warned. "You're in this class for violating school policies in the first place - don't think we'll hesitate to have you expelled if you're caught failing to participate in this class to the best of your abilities. Understood?"

A few reflexive 'Sir, yes Sir's echoed around the room for a minute, followed by snickers from those who hadn't taken Professor Starkweather's military class. They were quickly silenced by a withering glare from the Professor.

"You heard the professor, Alec," Magnus said, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth as he pulled out his phone and held out a hand expectantly. "Hand it over."

Alec reluctantly traded phones with Magnus, if only to avoid the argument that was sure to ensue if he said no. Alec carefully typed his number into Magnus' phone as Magnus's fingers flew across the keypad for far longer than it takes to type in a ten-digit number. Then Magnus held the phone up and took a picture of himself making a face that made Alec's blush return full force.

"So you can't possibly forget this magnificent day," Magnus said with a wink. They traded phones again and Magnus shook his head. "This just won't do. Smile, Alexander."

Magnus held his phone out and snapped a picture of Alec while his face was still caught between embarrassment the contact information Magnus entered for himself and surprise that Magnus wanted a picture of him.

"That's perfect," Magnus grinned, typing quickly on his own keyboard. Alec was almost scared to ask what the picture Magnus took looked like. He didn't manage to summon the courage before Magnus stood up, walking over to join the redhead and the nerd that had gotten paired up with Jace and Isabelle. "See you later this week, Alexander. I look forward to your call."

The second Magnus was gone Alec groaned and slumped down in his chair. This semester was going to be impossible.

"You're so lucky, Alec, Magnus looks amazing," Isabelle gushed. "I mean, did you see his sleeves? And that makeup-"

"Rough time?" Jace interrupted, patting Alec on the back in commiseration.

"Oh, you have no idea." Alec let himself mope for another minute before standing up and grabbing his keys. "I'm never going with you to Taki's again."


	4. Chapter Three

_I'm back again! Sorry for vanishing! Fingers crossed I have a little more time on my hands now. Anyways, this chapter decided it wanted to be longer than originally planned, but I hope you enjoy!  
_ *** Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. ***

* * *

"Alec, you've been staring at your phone for thirty minutes. What are you waiting for? And why is your partner saved under 'The Magnificent Magnus Bane?' And what's that face he's making?" Jace asked, leaning over his brother's shoulder.

Alec fumbled to turn off the screen before the situation could get any more awkward, but he only succeeded in sending his phone tumbling to the floor and papers flying everywhere. Jace redirected his attention to one of the many lists Alec had been making, easily the worst of the pile, containing 57 possible activities he could do with Magnus.

"You do realize there aren't 57 weeks in the year, let alone in the rest of this semester, right? And I think this is the longest you've ever procrastinated on anything. It's already Thursday, and you have to get this done by Saturday morning. Are you sick or something?"

"You don't understand," Alec muttered. "You got stuck with a girl, you're good with those. You have plenty of experience, after all. Magnus is a completely unknown entity who needs to be handled with caution."

"Clary is nothing like the girls I have experience with, and she's driving me insane," Jace replied flatly, settling into the chair next to Alec. "I've texted her a million suggestions, and she's denied all of them, and not in that cutesy indecisive way some girls do. We might need your ridiculously long list if we're going to get anywhere, but I can't imagine Magnus denying you anything."

"Why don't we see if they want to go somewhere as a group?" Isabelle suggested. "I invited Simon to the movies earlier today and he said he had to see if Clary needed him for some art project first. He still hasn't gotten back to me. If we got them all at once they couldn't use each other as an excuse to procrastinate."

"That's actually a good idea, Izzy. Your first one, I'm so proud," Jace drawled.

Isabelle stuck her tongue out at Jace, sitting on top of the table since the chair on Alec's other side was buried under textbooks. "Besides, I'd love to talk to Magnus. His style is amazing."

"You can talk to him as much as you'd like if they agree to it," Alec promised quickly. "In fact, I wouldn't be opposed to you monopolizing him all night long."

"Slow down, Alec, they have to agree first," Isabelle laughed. "And besides, I doubt Magnus would allow himself to be distracted for that long. So Jace, call Clary and invite her to the movies."

"Why do I have to do it? Besides, we never go to the movies - why do you want to start now?" Jace complained.

"Because Simon likes movies, I assume Clary would be the same, Magnus would probably go along with anything, and I just want to get this over with" Isabelle replied. "And you have to do it because Alec is petrified, and I've already sent Simon my message for the day."

Jace muttered something under his breath, but pulled up Clary's contact. "If she shoots me down, I hope you know you're the one who's going to have to help me through the pain."

"Aw, poor baby," Isabelle rolled her eyes. "I think your ego can take the hit, Jace. Stop procrastinating and just call her already."

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Clary had just stepped out of the shower when she heard an unfamiliar ringing. She glanced up at the fire alarm first - it had made so many weird sounds over the years that you could never be sure - before finally glancing towards her phone.

Jace was calling her for some unfathomable reason, and at the most inopportune time. Clay let it go to voicemail - she wasn't interested in what had to be a butt dial since nobody actually used phones to make calls anymore - but he apparently wasn't interested in being ignored.

Clay answered it on the fourth call. After an awkward moment of silence, Jace said, "What, no hello?"

"Are you drunk?" Clary responded instead, starting down at her cell phone as though it might bite her.

"What? No - it's the middle of the day. You know, most people respond to greetings with a greeting of their own. What possible reason could you have for asking me that particular question?" Jace demanded.

"Well, why else would you call so many times in a row?" Clary replied.

"Alec is getting antsy now that it's Thursday and we haven't so much as talked about the assignment. As for calling specifically, it's faster than texting, gets much more interesting results, and sarcasm transfers better."

"Do you know how many introverts your spontaneous calls have petrified?"

"None - I stay away from introverts. Nasty little creatures - think they know everything but refuse to share with anyone else. They're nearly worse to be around than ducks. Anyways, the real reason I called before I was so heinously accused of day drinking was that we need to start thinking about the assignment. Alec and Izzy want to know if you, Simon, and Magnus want to hang out as a group?"

"Hang on, I'll ask Simon. Magnus lives on the floor beneath us, so that'll take a little longer," Clary said. "What did you have in mind?

"Izzy wants to see a movie. She said Simon would be interested," Jace replied.

"She already knows him so well - why couldn't our friendship have gotten off to as good of a start?" Clary mused without giving Jace a chance to respond. "Hang on, I found Simon. I'll call you back in a few."

Simon was lounging on the couch with his gaming headphones on and unfamiliar scenes from Call of Duty on the screen. He was oblivious to Clary's approach until she asked loudly, "How's the new college gaming collection working out for you?"

"What? Oh, it sucks. I keep dying, my fingers are cramping, and I've been playing for hours but I feel like I haven't progressed at all," Simon complained.

"I bet you miss Dance Dance Revolution now, don't you?" Clary plopped down on the couch next to her best friend.

"Yes, but I'm committed to moving ahead in my video game options. Girls love guys who play Call of Duty. Dance Dance Revolution? Not so much."

"I'm not so sure these hypothetical girls would agree with your evaluation, but I guess if it makes you feel better, I won't dash your dreams. Anyways, Jace wants to make plans for getting together, and he thinks me, you, and Magnus should go with the Lightwoods as a group. Thoughts?"

"I'm not opposed to the idea," Simon replied. "Izzy is terrifying - she spent the first thirty minutes talking about how I should get a fringe cut, whatever that is. Magnus might like her, but she definitely hates me, since I managed to ramble about video games like a complete idiot for the rest of the time. She probably thinks I'm insane. She texted me about the movies earlier today - probably out of pity - and I couldn't bring myself to say yes. I mean, what if I geek out even worse?"

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Clary lied. "Besides, she must be at least marginally interested in what you had to say since she's volunteering to go to the movies again. And Magnus and I will be there so things can't get too bad."

"I guess you're right - it can't get much worse than the damage I've already done," Simon sighed. He quickly made excuses to his friends and took off his headset. "You know, I never thought I would be glad to be forced to take a break. Does this mean my relationship with videogames is doomed?"

"It probably just means first person shooters are an acquired taste," Clary replied. "Magnus said he's in his apartment, but Raphael's moping."

"I'm not surprised - I don't think I've ever seen Raphael looking happy," Simon replied, following Clary down a flight of stairs. Even if they hadn't known which apartment belonged to Magnus, they could hear Raphael's curse-studded Spanish through the thin walls. Magnus opened the door after the first knock, quickly ushering them into his room, which only barely muffled Raphael's yelling.

"Oh, thank God you're here. Apparently, Raphael tried to make his move on Aline and got shot down pretty hard. And Raphael's answer to a breakup - even for an imaginary relationship - is shots of hard vodka," Magnus shuddered. "Camille was supposed to come over an hour ago to commiserate with him, but she's running late, as always, and I'm running out of ways to explain that I prefer not to get wasted in the middle of the afternoon."

"Didn't you say 5pm was prime drinking time last week?"

"For cocktails, not shots," Magnus waved it away. "I can see how you could get confused, but trust me, the distinction is important. Now, I must say, I'm a little disappointed Alexander didn't personally invite me, but what is this proposal that you've gotten from the Lightwoods?"

"They want to go as a group to see a movie," Clary explained. "Are you interested?"

"A movie sounds nice, especially if it were to be paired with dinner." Magnus smiled to himself. "And I must say I'd love to finally formally meet Isabelle. When did they want to go?"

"I'll ask," Clary said, pulling out her phone and texting a response. Almost immediately her phone started ringing.

"I can't believe non-salesmen exist who actually make phone calls," Simon marveled after recovering from the initial shock of hearing Clary's ringtone.

Clary shoved him as she answered the phone. "You're on speaker, Jace. Simon and Magnus are here, too, and you should know that they both nearly had a heart attack when you called."

"It's not my fault that you can't follow simple instructions," Jace replied, unfazed by her friends' near-death experiences. "You should be glad I'm here to help you overcome your fears."

"I'll do no such thing, and not because I'm afraid of phone calls. I just think they're useless, especially considering I've already texted you everything I would have said in a phone call," Clary replied indignantly.

"You sent a question," Jace corrected. "That means there's a potential discussion to be had that deserves our full attention. Assuming you can focus when it sounds like someone is getting murdered over there."

"Let's just focus on the matter at hand," Clary said as Magnus shoved his comforter in the crack beneath the door in a failed attempt to mute the noise even more.

"If you say so. I'll just have to trust you're smart enough not to share evidence of criminal activities with near-strangers. Alec and Izzy are listening in, too. Since you first suggested going to the movies, Izzy, what time were you thinking?"

"I have cheerleading practice until 8 tomorrow, so we'll have to work around that," Izzy said after a moment.

"Tomorrow soccer practice runs until 9, and after that Sebastian's making us do teambuilding exercises - whatever that means - until 11," Alec said.

"Then it has to be tonight," Jace decided. "Unless you wanted to see a movie at two in the afternoon, that is."

"No thanks, those of us who are here to get a degree have classes during the day," Clary said. "But tonight is pretty short notice."

"We'll see the ten o'clock showing of something. Even Isabelle can get ready in an hour and a half in a time crunch, so I doubt anyone will have a problem," Jace said.

"I resent that," Isabelle said as Magnus said, "It takes effort to look fabulous."

"We'll see you at the theater at 9:45," Jace said before hanging up abruptly.

"I would be mad if I weren't so ready for an excuse to escape Raphael's wailing," Magnus said getting up to ransack his dresser. "They're lucky I was planning on going out tonight anyways, or we wouldn't have a chance of being on time."

"You know, for someone who's so enthusiastic about phone calls, he's not very good at ending the call," Simon commented as they left Magnus alone to get ready.

Clary shook her head. "I'm pretty sure he only does it to annoy people."

It was going to be a long night.

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"I hope they appreciate how good I look despite how much I had to rush," Magnus muttered as he climbed into the back of the cab. He had just touched up his nails - he couldn't possibly be seen with hands that were anything less than perfect - and couldn't drive without risking smudges. Clary and Simon weren't willing to brave the New York traffic, so they were stuck trusting the taxi system.

"I think you still lo -" Clary trailed off in the middle of her sentence, distracted by a shock of white-blond hair. Just as quickly as it caught her attention it was gone, but the icy fingers of fear remained.

"Are you okay?" Magnus asked, looking at Clary in concern.

"What?" Clary asked, forcing a smile onto her face as she slid into the cab next to Magnus. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be? I get to spend a night out on the town with my best friends who look fabulous, by the way."

She scanned the street once more, but she didn't catch sight of the hair again before they started moving. It must have been her imagination, right? He wouldn't just come back to town. Not with everything that was going on.

"I suppose I'll take what I can get," Magnus said doubtfully, his light tone at odds with the concern in his face. "It seemed like you were somewhere else entirely."

"Nope. I'm right here with you, wondering what kinds of invisible stains might be on the seats," Clary replied, trying to force herself to calm down. Magnus and Simon - well, Magnus, at least - wouldn't let him hurt her. "What were you saying earlier? Something about how Alec was superior to Jace? Which, of course, wouldn't be hard to do."

"I can't imagine how anyone related to Alexander could be so horrible," Magnus said. "Regardless, all the tabloids make Jace seem as though he's an acquired taste. Well, that and that he'd definitely give you an enjoyable night, if you let him. He might grow on you."

"Like a parasite, maybe," Clary muttered.

"It's less than one semester, and we only have to see him twice a week. How bad could it get?" Simon said cheerfully, wrapping his arm around his best friend.

"Oh, you'd be surprised what Jace has gotten up to over the years," Magnus replied with a smirk. "All sorts of things he probably wishes his mother never found out about. One of the few pitfalls of being a minor celebrity, I suppose."

Clary covered her ears. "Don't tell me! The last thing I want is for Jace to accuse me of cyberstalking him. I prefer ignorance."

"If that's what you want. I doubt someone like Jace would care one way or another. In fact, he might be disappointed. What movie are we going to see?"

"You know as much as I do. But the Lightwoods picked the time, so I assume they have something in mind," Clary said.

Magnus winced. "The Lightwood's reputation doesn't exactly make it seem as though they're big on movies."

"It's just a few hours - how bad can it be?" Simon said optimistically. "Besides, I suggested a lot of good ones to Izzy last Saturday."

"That sounds like a jinx if I've ever heard one," Magnus muttered.

Fifteen minutes later they were at the theater, miraculously only five minutes behind schedule. Jace and Isabelle were already in line for concessions, arguing loudly over what to buy. It only took Magnus a few moments longer to locate Alec, sitting at a table away from his siblings.

He was on the phone, his chin resting on his hands and his eyes squeezed shut in the perfect expression of frustration. Magnus was tempted to distract him from the obviously unpleasant call, but Isabelle noticed their arrival before he could make his move, hitting Jace once more on the arm before stalking over to them on her six-inch heels.

"Hello again, Simon. Nice to meet you Clary, Magnus," Isabelle said, grinning at each of them in turn. "Glad you could make it. I love your wing, Magnus. The sweep is perfect."

"Likewise," Magnus said, pointedly ignoring the confusion on Clary and Simon's faces. He wasn't surprised that Simon didn't know anything about makeup, but he really expected more from Clary. He made a mental note to remedy that later. "It's nice to meet you, Isabelle. I've heard a lot about you - all good things, I can assure you."

"I'm flattered, but you should know that half of it is probably made up," Isabelle grinned. "We just ordered a bunch of sodas and lemonades, since we didn't know what you guys wanted and we aren't too picky. I hope that's okay."

"It's perfect," Magnus replied, his gaze drifting to Alec. "But you know, Alexander could have just called me and asked what we wanted. I can't imagine there's anyone in the world he'd rather be talking to than yours truly."

Isabelle snorted, catching all of the NYU students off guard. "I'm sure he'd rather talk to anyone other than our mother. I told him he should just let it go to voicemail, but he insisted it might be important. He'll return soon enough. She wouldn't want to jeopardize our progress with the program."

Magnus' attention was riveted to Alec. When the blue-eyed boy finally looked up, his entire face flushed red. He ended the call and stood up so quickly he nearly knocked the table over, drawing the attention of the entire lobby in the process. He hurried over to Jace with his head down, as if he believed that when he didn't look at someone, they wouldn't be looking at him, either.

After a long, awkward minute Simon asked, "What movie are we watching?"

"Apparently the only thing that wasn't full was a zombie movie," Isabelle replied, not even bothering to mask her eyeroll.

"If it made it to the theater instead of going to DVD, I'm sure it must have some sort of merit," Magnus said.

"Or a lot of big names behind it," Clary muttered.

"Look on the bright side - if the movie sucks, at least now you know to warn the next person who's being tricked into seeing it," Simon said. "One day we'll look back on this night and laugh about it, I'm sure."

"Is he always this annoyingly optimistic?" Jace muttered, his eyes glued to his phone as he walked over with one of the three buckets of popcorn in his hands.

"Only on Thursdays," Clary said sarcastically. "And do you really think Alec can carry the rest of that on his own?"

Jace shrugged. "He didn't complain when I walked away."

Alec was looking at them with wide eyes as he struggled to balance two more massive buckets of popcorn and six huge cups of soda. Magnus grinned, stalking over and relieving him of the two cans of soda he had stacked on top of each other and asking for a drink carrier.

"You know, if you were in distress, you could have just called for me," Magnus purred as they waited. "I'll always come to your rescue. I'd have been there to rescue you from that phone call if Isabelle hadn't wanted to talk to us."

"T-thanks, uh, I-the call wasn't- uh, that bad," Alec stammered, nearly knocking an entire drink carrier's worth of sodas on the ground. He walked quickly towards Isabelle, leaving Magnus to deal with the drinks. "Uh, we should get seated before we miss the movie."

"It's just the previews, there's no rush," Simon said, glancing at his watch. "We've probably got at least fifteen minutes before we miss the opening credits, not that those are important either, but at least they're relevant to the movie."

"But the previews are the best part of any movie," Magnus said cheerfully, showing up with the drinks. "How else are you going to know which movies are worth seeing and which aren't? Lead the way to the theater."


	5. Chapter Four

_I really appreciate all the reviews and support! I hope you enjoy!  
_ **** Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. ****

* * *

"I don't know whether to cry or laugh," Jace said, his attention riveted to the movie screen. They were only fifteen minutes in, and the movie had proven itself to be a plotless gorefest. "The special effects are awful and unrealistic. I mean, there's no way that anyone could possibly bend like that, undead or otherwise. And trust me, I'm an expert on contortion."

"I don't even want to know what makes you an expert on contortion," Clary muttered.

"Just be quiet - there's no way you could do any better than this cinematic masterpiece!" someone a few rows in front of them yelled. Everyone around them was muttering about movie theater etiquette, and how some people shouldn't be allowed to go to the movies.

"On the contrary - for one, I wouldn't use blood that's so obviously fake," Jace replied, seemingly blind to the frustration of everyone around him. "And I'd have some sort of plot. Say, a group of superhumans working to protect the world from the monsters instead of civilians screaming and running around as though panicking would somehow save their pathetic lives."

"That's really heartless, Jace," Clary said, looking utterly disturbed. She wasn't a fan of the movie herself - she preferred not to think about the world ending in a monster apocalypse - but she still felt bad for the people being picked off by the monsters. After all, even idiots don't deserve to be eaten alive.

This time Simon joined in with the people yelling for them to be quiet. After a particularly creative beheading Jace started laughing and even Alec launched into a rant about physics and the laws of gravity. A half-full bucket of popcorn was thrown at them, and the other people in the theater were practically screaming for them to be escorted out.

"Maybe this wasn't the best idea," Isabelle said, standing up and shaking popcorn out of her hair.

"I think it was a great idea," Simon said, reluctantly following Isabelle's lead. "Some people just aren't cultured enough to enjoy a movie."

"You don't really expect me to just ignore all the logical flaws in this movie, do you?" Jace complained. "I mean, come on. The special effects are awful, the characters are infuriatingly stupid, and plot is nonexistent. To be honest, I'm amazed whoever came up with the idea wasn't fired on the spot."

"The trick is not to think too hard about what's happening while the movie is playing. You keep your commentary to yourself during the movie, and complain about it on the ride home," Simon explained, ducking another airborne bucket of popcorn. "The movie wasn't even halfway over - now the ride is going to be awkward and silent after ten minutes."

"Not to mention fifteen minutes in the movie theater probably doesn't fulfill whatever time requirements they had in mind," Magnus said.

Isabelle had no intentions of getting lectured for cutting the outing too short. Not to mention she had rushed to dress up for this. She intended to make full use of her outfit. "How do you guys feel about grabbing dinner, then?"

"The great dinner and a movie cliché?" Jace wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Technically a movie and dinner," Simon corrected. "I know a good 24-hour burger place if you're interested. It also has salads and stuff, since I know you said you liked to be healthy, Izzy."

"I think you're the first person to consider that without being reminded," Isabelle said. "I'm impressed."

"What can I say? We NYU students have class."

"Not as much class as the Institute," Jace corrected, glowering at Simon as though he could kill him with his eyes. Jace didn't know what it was, but there was something about Simon that he instinctively hated. "Nothing beats the Institute."

"Our parties are better," Magnus said . "No offense, but all of you are too uptight to enjoy a night of recklessness without getting completely hammered, and drunk people are rarely fun to be around for more than fifteen minutes at a time."

"Guys, we're supposed to be getting along, so let's just say each school has its strengths and weaknesses and leave it at that, okay?" Isabelle interrupted before the argument could escalate. "Clary, you've been quiet and well-mannered all night. How was your day?"

"Oh, um, it was fine," Clary said, caught off guard by the rapid change in subject. "I finished a painting today."

"I didn't know you painted," Jace said, frowning.

"Clary's the best artist at NYU," Simon bragged. "What could you possibly have discussed last Saturday if painting didn't come up at all?"

"I've tried to block that day from my memory."

"Everybody but Jace is convinced that he concussed himself at practice last week," Alec explained. "Don't take it personally; he didn't remember to avoid Isabelle's cooking either."

"Maybe I was just trying to give her a second chance," Jace said defensively. "It was a mistake that I won't make twice, but a grand gesture nonetheless."

"I thought you were a great cook," Simon said, looking confused.

"I am," Isabelle said, glowering at her brothers. "They just don't know what good food tastes like."

"Unfortunately, we do know what food poisoning tastes like, courtesy of Izzy," Alec said.

"That's good to hear, Clary," Isabelle said loudly, shooting her brother a harsh look. "I've always wished I was a better artist. It would make designing much easier. It's a miracle when I can look back at one of my designs and understand what's supposed to be going where."

"Well, your efforts have certainly paid off," Magnus said, holding open the door to a restaurant with only three of the letters left flickering on its neon sign.

"Are you sure this is a good place, Simon?" Alec asked, frowning at a questionable stain on one of the stools.

"Yeah, just ignore the aesthetics. The food is awesome," Simon said. "And I've never known anyone to get food poisoning from here, so you are in safe hands."

"I don't know about safe," the only employee in the building said, resting her elbows on the counter and looking at each of them in turn. Magnus didn't miss the lengthy glowers directed at the Lightwoods, which were only slightly more vicious than the one leveled at him. Simon and Clary tensed, exchanging guilty looks. Magnus grimaced; this may not have been the best backup choice. "Competent, sure, but not necessarily safe. Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friends, Si?"

"Um, she's joking, for the record," Simon assured the group, but he didn't sound as confident as before. In fact, he looked a little worried. "Guys, this is Maia. Maia, these are my friends. You know Clary, of course, and you've probably seen Magnus around campus before. This is Izzy, Jace, and Alec. But I didn't know you were working tonight."

"I'm covering tonight. And I thought I recognized them from the magazines, but I was sure you'd never stoop so low," Maia said, wrinkling her nose. "Magnus is bad enough, but you're hanging out with kids from the Institute now? I thought you had better taste than that."

"I thought you were over your issues with Magnus. And we have to hang out with the Lightwoods for a school thing, it's not a big deal," Simon waved it off.

Jace scowled - he remembered the good old days when any girl he looked at would trip over herself to impress him. "Don't test us - we may have to be nice to them, but nothing says we have to be nice to you."

"I'm quaking in my boots," Maia said dryly, rolling her eyes. "I'd like to see you try something, blondie. Your soccer team isn't here to protect you now, so tread carefully." Maia turned to Alec and Isabelle, her mood brightening considerably. "I hope you're nicer than your brother, or your food won't be safe with me, either. What can I get you?"

Jace scowled the entire time the others ordered, and refused to touch his food after it was delivered. He didn't trust Maia not to try and poison him, and he wasn't interested in ending the night with an ambulance ride. He'd had his fill of food poisoning the past weekend. It was almost enough to make him wish he were back in the theater watching that awful movie.

"So, Clary, Izzy was wondering if you've ever had your art featured in a gallery," Jace said. "Since you'll tell my sister things and not me, I figured dropping her name would be the best way to get a conversation started."

"Because that's not immature at all," Clary muttered under her breath, sharing a look with Simon. Jace's scowl deepened; he already hated Simon, and he had barely said ten words to the guy. "I haven't been featured in any real galleries. It's next to impossible to get into an official gallery without knowing somebody or already having a following. The school shows are restricted to upperclassmen. Since my mom's one of the head art professors they're especially reluctant to make an exception for me."

"Which is a shame, because she totally deserves it. Her sloppiest doodles are better than the best painting in any of their shows, hands down," Simon bragged.

"Your mother's Professor Fray?" Alec asked, furrowing his brow. "Why would the school let her co-run the program if her daughter was going to be part of it?"

"Oh, it's personal," Clary replied, her expression darkening. "Someone from the Institute did unspeakable things to her potted plant, and the school thought that running the program would help her get past the trauma. She seems nice now, but trust me, you wouldn't want to deal with her when she's mad."

Jace immediately busied himself studying the ice cubes in his glass of fruit punch. He couldn't help but think back to the dare he'd made Sebastian - completely as a joke, for the record. Jace hadn't actually thought he'd follow through with it, but since he did… That's one secret that will hopefully never see the light of day.

"Well at least you didn't get paired with Sebastian," Magnus said, coughing lightly. "Someone's looking out for you, after all."

Jace's head snapped up; did Magnus know something about it? Alec looked as though he was being strangled, but Jace knew his secret was safe with his brother, if only because he didn't want to ruin their chances at some semblance of peace during the program. Isabelle didn't know anything, but she wouldn't have told anybody even if she did. Magnus, on the other hand, looked like the kind of guy who knew everyone's business, and let important secrets slip all the time.

"So, where do you guys usually go out to eat?" Simon asked, completely oblivious to Jace's dilemma as he tried to dodge yet another awkward moment. "You must have pretty high standards, since Jace seemingly doesn't like anything here."

"Very funny," Jace crossed his arms. "After suffering at Isabelle's hands, I'm an expert at spotting food that isn't good for my health, and this food is certainly questionable. I mean, I'm almost certain that this is not fruit punch. I'd say it's tomato juice if I had to guess."

"Close," Maia said, appearing at their table. "It's watered-down ketchup. I'd never waste the good stuff on you. I'm kind of disappointed that you didn't try it, though."

"How sweet," Jace said wryly.

"I thought so, too. Don't worry, it's on the house. Here's the bill, Si, you know what to do when you're ready," Maia said before returning to the bar.

"Which school is classier now?" Jace muttered, pushing the glass away.

"Schools aren't represented by one student," Magnus said defensively. "Which is a good thing, or you would have completely decimated the Institute's reputation by now. And that wouldn't be fair to the nice people like Alexander or Isabelle who also have the misfortune of attending."

"Why don't we go for a walk? Get some air?" Isabelle suggested, standing so suddenly she nearly tipped the table over. "What do you guys think? Change of scenery?"

"Fine," Magnus said. "But why don't we go in our individual groups? We are supposed to spend some time talking to each other individually. And I much preferred speaking with Alexander to dealing with Jace - no offense, Clary."

"I do my best not to get offended by facts," Clary sighed, scowling at her partner. Jace scowled back, completely ignoring Isabelle's heel digging into his shin. Why couldn't he have been paired with someone - anyone - else in the program? It's almost as though the universe was conspiring to make him miserable.

"It's not as if you're all incredibly pleasant to deal with," Jace said, his fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles went white.

"You're both acting ridiculous, and you both need to chill out," Isabelle interrupted before Jace could launch himself at Magnus. "Jace you are, in fact, acting like a jerk, not that it's anything new for you. And as Clary put it, there's no reason to be upset over facts."

"And you have better self-control than that, Magnus," Simon said, following Isabelle's lead and trying to keep the peace. "After everything you've been through, you can at least be cordial."

"I'm not apologizing if that's what you're looking for," Jace said.

"It's getting late," Alec blurted before Magnus could say something that made the situation worse. "Maybe we should just take our pictures for the class and go our separate ways."

"It's only 10:55," Clary said, though she didn't particularly want to stay out any longer than absolutely necessary.

"I have to get up early to get work done before school tomorrow morning," Alec said, looking as though he wished he could sink into the floor. "Six in the morning, and Mother wants me to -" Isabelle elbowed him and Alec coughed, his stammering increasing, "ah, I have s-studying to do before - later tonight - er, tomorrow. Sorry."

"Next time, then," Magnus said, the argument from a few moments before seemingly forgotten. "After all, you know how to get in touch with me, Alexander."

"Oh, Magnus, do you think I could get your number?" Isabelle asked. "For fashion emergencies and, you know."

"I'd be honored," Magnus grinned, happily exchanging phones and taking a much tamer picture of himself for his contact photo. Alec didn't know whether to feel relieved that his sister would be spared the embarrassment he felt every time he looked at Magnus' contact picture, or worried about what Magnus thought about him. The best course of action was probably to just ignore it and hope it would go away.

Then they took their pictures for the class. No matter how much Alec tried to sidle away, or the fact that Alec was at least 6 inches taller, Magnus insisted on keeping an arm draped over his shoulders for their photo. Alec forced himself to smile for the picture, chanting in his head that the faster they got the picture over with, the sooner they could separate.

He was certain it was the most embarrassing picture he'd ever taken until he noticed Jace wouldn't smile for his photo no matter what, and his scowl only deepened when Clary insisted they keep a respectable two feet between each other. And Simon seemingly wanted to melt into the concrete as Isabelle rearranged his hair and tilted his head to the side for what was probably the best picture Simon had taken in his life. Alec couldn't tell who had the most awkward picture-taking process, but he hoped it wouldn't always be that awful and stilted.

"See you all Sunday," Magnus said as they parted ways. Alec didn't miss the wink sent his way. He felt his cheeks grow hot as he led his siblings to their car. He could only hope that the end of the semester came quickly.


	6. Chapter Five

_TW: Brief bullying/Mental instability mention?  
_ **** Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. ****

* * *

"You're making it really hard to be a good student," Magnus whispered out of the corner of his mouth, doing his best to look as though he was paying attention.

"If you didn't want to talk, you shouldn't have told me that you ran into Maia right before class started," Camille replied, continuing to poke Magnus in the side every 0.5 seconds. "You knew I'd need details."

"Honestly, Camille, it wasn't that big of a deal. She was more preoccupied with the others in our group," Magnus sighed, relegating himself to missing the entire lecture.

Not that he knew what was going on anyways. If it didn't have to do with something practical or interesting, he couldn't bring himself to pay attention. He didn't even feel bad about it since he'd never understood why he had to take so many general education classes when he already knew what he wanted to do with his life. The only reason he ever managed to make it to those classes on time was to hang out with his friends, Camille, Raphael, and Ragnor. The general education classes were the only ones they took together, since they had all declared different majors.

"The Lightwoods," Camille said with a shudder. "I'm amazed you lived to tell the tale."

"They're not that bad. For the most part."

"Ay dios mio, they're converting him," Raphael groaned. "Next thing you know he'll be coming to their defense."

"You can talk about Jace as much as you want," Magnus said. "But Alexander and Isabelle are nice."

"I almost wish I had taken all those dual enrollment courses with Catarina back in high school," Ragnor interrupted forlornly. "Then I wouldn't have to listen to you or the teacher."

"You'd miss us too much," Magnus waved the idea away. "Not to mention those courses were ten times harder than this, and we all know you're not the one to expend unnecessary effort."

Ragnor just sighed, going back to doodling absently in his notebook. Magnus made a mental note to buy his friend more colorful pens than the abysmal puke green ones he always carried around. Maybe that would get him to brighten up for once.

"Magnus, you're procrastinating on telling me what happened with Maia, and don't expect me to believe she directed her anger entirely at the Lightwoods. I've met her before, and I know she has more than enough anger to go around, especially when it comes to you," Camille said, snapping her brightly painted fingernails. "Details, please."

"Correction - she hates you and Raphael. I've no idea what I did to be lumped in," Magnus replied. "I've done a lot of awful things in the past, but I didn't even know Maia until Simon tried to introduce us, and she already hated me then. I couldn't possibly have offended her so badly that her first reflex is to despise me even though she apparently told Simon she was past whatever grudge she was holding."

"Rat face talks about you? Weird," Camille said with a scowl.

"You must just have one of those faces that just makes people uncomfortable," Raphael added.

"You can barely see my face - I'm 99% makeup," Magnus muttered before turning his attention to his vibrating phone. Even though he was in college, and a teacher would never confiscate his phone just for texting in class, he couldn't break the habit of hiding it beneath his desk.

He had a social media friend request from Isabelle - which he accepted in a heartbeat - and at least a hundred messages from Clary, all demanding that he meet her for lunch. Which wasn't a strange request - they ate together quite often - but usually not twice in a row and the request was never sent with any kind of urgency. "You're still coming to lunch with me, right Raphael?" Magnus asked.

"Of course," Raphael said, looking at him strangely. "We always eat together on Fridays, since the others couldn't be bothered to leave time for lunch in their schedules."

"Some of us actually do want to graduate on time," Ragnor said. "And it's much easier to just pick open classes than to sit on the waitlist or beg some professor to let us into a full section."

"It's not begging, it's magic," Magnus said with a flourish of his fingers. "It's all about who you know, and I happen to know a lot of important people. And we're having lunch with Clary and Simon today."

Raphael groaned. "Why does that sound like a trap to me?"

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"I should have trusted my instincts," Raphael muttered, staring daggers at the table before him. Or, more specifically, at the back of Maia's head.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Biscuit?" Magnus asked uncertainly. "I rather enjoy avoiding being the center of negative drama. As much fun as reading about scandals and impromptu fights in the tabloids are, I'd rather not rush into one of my own."

"Not to mention I shouldn't even be here," Raphael added. "Not only do I hate eating the drivel NYU claims as food, but I have no interest whatsoever in meeting the friends that not only hate me, but happily accept a music nerd and an art nerd."

"We aren't nerds," Simon said indignantly.

"You're both overreacting," Clary said dismissively. "Even if they were mad at you before, considering they now have the Lightwoods to hate they'll probably happily welcome you into the group. Just consider it part of your duties for the program. If we can't get along with each other, we have no hope getting along with students from the Institute."

"If you say so," Magnus mumbled, pasting a false smile onto his face. "Considering they didn't even invite you and Simon to lunch today, I doubt they're open to the idea."

"Mere oversight," Simon waved it off. "Nothing out of the ordinary there - we've made so many group chats even I lose track of who is part of what sometimes."

Raphael muttered something in Spanish that roughly translated to "I'm too young to be eaten alive."

But before Magnus could make his friends understand that it was not, in fact, a mere accident that they were left off the invite list, they were at the table. Nobody looked happy to see them, but nobody pulled the chair out from beneath them when they sat, either. Magnus would take what he could get.

"Hello, everyone, you guys know Magnus and Raphael," Simon said, cheerfully ignoring the daggers Maia was glaring at him. "And these are my friends, who I think you both already know. And if you don't, well, you won't remember them if I rattle their names off anyways."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. I've heard great things," Magnus offered.

"I wish I could say we've heard the same," Maia said, resting her elbows on the table and turning her glare on Magnus. "I may have forgiven you, Magnus, but there's no way you can expect me to extend the same courtesy to Raphael. In fact, I think Clary and Simon managed to find the only person more problematic than the Lightwoods."

"But haven't you heard? I walk the straight and narrow these days," Raphael said dryly. "I'm just as forgivable as Magnus."

"People don't change," Maia said icily.

"You forgave Magnus, and you convinced all of your other friends to accept me despite my heritage," Simon pointed out.

"Magnus didn't go out of his way to hurt the people I cared about, and you know I only tolerated you in the beginning because of your relationship with Luke," Maia replied tightly. "And don't say you were just playing, Raphael. I was there. I know what happened."

"That was high school," Raphael said, rolling his eyes. "Everyone does regrettable things in high school. Just move past it."

"You don't even care, do you?" Maia said incredulously. "That you drove him insane? That they have to keep him locked up in some mental institute to keep him from hurting anyone?"

"Of course we care, otherwise we wouldn't be here to mend fences, now would we?" Magnus said.

"You didn't try to stop them, either," Maia said, turning on Magnus as though she only just remembered he was there. "And you're still friends with two of the worst - Camille and Raphael. It's clear you've never lost someone, or you'd know why I'm not just freely handing out second chances to anyone who walks by," Maia said, either missing or ignoring about the way Magnus flinched at her words. "I may have forgiven you, but that doesn't mean we're ever going to be friends. Let's go, guys. I've lost my appetite."

Clary thought at least one person would have remained seated. But as if they had rehearsed it, the entire table stood up as one and walked away without looking back. Apparently their friendship wasn't as strong as she thought.

"Tough crowd," Simon said, chewing his sandwich thoughtfully. He was the only one who actually managed to eat anything. After having his mouth wired shut a few months back and being unable to eat anything but disturbingly colored liquids, he savored everything he ate, even if it was just dining hall food.

Clary just shrugged. "It's not like we didn't know she was stubborn. We'll try again later, and they'll come around eventually."

Raphael snorted. "If I were still a gambling man, I'd put my money on them never coming around. You're wasting your time - you might as well just go back to your friends before they permanently associate you with us."

"Aw, I didn't know you cared," Clary said, placing a hand over her heart.

"I don't care. I just don't want you to attach yourself to my friend group because nobody else will give you the time of day," Raphael replied snidely.

"How is Camille, by the way?" Simon asked. "And, um, the other two?"

"Catarina and Ragnor are both great, and glad that they're valued members of our group of friends," Magnus said dryly. "Camille is creating mischief wherever she goes, as always. She's probably placed bets on the outcome of our lunch meeting, and she'll be quite rich in a few hours."

"I don't know why you're wasting your time on Camille. She's only slightly more attainable than Isabelle," Raphael added.

Simon turned red. "It's not like that - Camille is just a friend. Admittedly a distant one, but she's still practically family. Clary will tell you all about it. Right? Clary?"

"Everyone knows Simon is an unlovable nerd so all his relationships are purely platonic," Clary deadpanned.

"Exactly," Simon said smugly. Then he blanched. "Wait, that's not what I wanted."

Everyone laughed as Simon hastily tried to backtrack. Even if Maia and the others never accepted Magnus, at least they'd always be able to have fun with each other.

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Alec wasn't surprised when Sebastian announced that something had gotten mixed up with their teambuilding excursion and as a result it was canceled. But he was surprised when Sebastian said it had been pushed back to Monday. He never really expected there to be any kind of teambuilding whatsoever - this early in the semester, he had been certain it was just a loosely disguised excuse to have the team together for some late-night hazing.

Of course, just because the official excursion had been canceled, the team wasn't allowed to just go home. No, instead of letting everybody leave at a reasonable hour Jace wheedled the coach into letting them keep the soccer fields' lights running for a few more hours, and give them the key to the locker room. Which wasn't hard when the fields and locker rooms were a part of 'Lightwood Stadium'.

At least Jace had also arranged for takeout to be delivered before they started in on their pickup game.

So Alec sat through the farce of picking teams, where Jace glowered the designated upperclassman captain into picking only the second string players, leaving all of the starting line with Jace. Then he stood in his place in the goalkeeper's box, resisting the urge to drag a chair along with him since he knew their opponents wouldn't get close to taking a shot on him.

Not that Alec minded. Their pickup games were the only times the backup goalkeeper actually got the chance to actually do something all season. And a game where he knew he wouldn't have to do anything was a good time to clear his head, think about all the problems weighing down on him. Namely the program. Or, more specifically, Magnus Bane.

Alec knew his approach wasn't working. Magnus wasn't going to just give up if Alec kept running away. And Alec didn't want to be miserable for the rest of the semester, either. So something would have to change. And since he couldn't force Magnus to behave without explaining to him exactly what the problem was - which defeated the whole purpose since Alec would never willingly allow his secret to get out - it would have to be him.

Alec was deep in thought of ways to avoid making his family suspicious when movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention. His hands flew up reflexively, only narrowly catching the ball and saving a goal that never should have come close to happening. He looked up, squinting to see which second-string striker they'd underestimated. But all he saw was Jace, grinning like a maniac next to some very confused defenders.

"Handball," Jace announced, clapping his hands. "Penalty kick."

"Jace? What the heck? You took a shot on me?" Alec demanded, resting the ball against his hip. Jace had done some crazy things over the years, but jeopardizing their perfect streak wasn't one of them. Jace was even more protective of his victories than the other two Lightwoods, and that was saying something.

"You seemed bored, so I decided to give you the ball," Jace replied, feigning innocence. "How was I supposed to know you weren't looking and would use your hands?"

Alec just sighed. Sometimes his brother didn't make sense, even to him. So Alec got in position for a penalty kick and blocked it easily, since their best penalty kick taker was on their team. Alec was careful to pay attention for the rest of the game, in case Jace decided to do something stupid again.

Luckily the only stupid thing Jace did was victory dances - which he always claimed only did as practice for the games so he wouldn't fall on his face or end up standing there awkwardly - and they won handily, 13-0. The gap in scores was down significantly from the beginning of the year. The goalkeeper, at least, was improving from the constant volley of shots.

The rest of the team was celebrating on their way to the locker room, but as usual Alec was more subdued than the rest of him. He didn't celebrate much for normal season games, let alone the pickup games they played on occasion. He just never felt like he was making a difference in most of their games, especially when the only team that regularly managed to sneak past their defense was NYU.

"I know that face, Alec, you're worried about hurting the second stringers' feelings," Sebastian said, nudging him with his shoulder. 'Relax. They're not half as bothered about the loss as you."

"I just think it wouldn't kill you to pass back instead of shooting every once in a while."

"Then the goalkeeper wouldn't be improving as quickly," Sebastian replied. "You know they get more experience playing against us than having everyone evenly split, with the best players on each team spending most time with the ball."

"I know, I was the one who came up with the theory in the first place," Alec replied, crossing his arms. "Why are you even bothering talking to me? It's not like I'm going to ruin your fun."

"After a month winning effortlessly gets boring," was all Sebastian said.

Jace took Sebastian's place quickly once they got into the locker too, draping his bare arm across Alec's shoulder. Alec stiffened immediately, not that his brother noticed. He was too focused on the game. "This is almost too easy. We need to see if the cameras were recording so they can watch the game, because I keep finding the same holes in their defense," Jace said, more serious than Alec had expected. Sebastian must have been right about winning getting boring, because Jace wasn't anywhere near as critical in the beginning of the season.

"You can make them watch tapes all you want - unless there's a coach on the field making them walk through it, they won't remember," Alec said, wishing someone would give him an excuse to push away his brother. It was times like this that Alec had to remind himself that Jace was technically his foster brother, and the situation was nowhere near as twisted as it could be.

"The coach is too focused on people like you to care about the second stringers," Alec added.

Jace just snorted. "Just because they're third and fourth years instead of first years doesn't mean they should be ignored just because they're not top talent. Some tournament we're all going to get injured and Coach is going to wish he spent more time training them instead of letting everything ride on us."

"Just enjoy yourself, Jace," Sebastian said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. Alec's eyes immediately shot to the ceiling. No matter what he thought of Sebastian, it was hard not to notice a seasoned soccer player clad only in a towel. And Alec really didn't need the extra complications. "You're way too serious for a powerless underclassman."

"Team captain," Jace corrected, unaffected by Sebastian's appearance. "The youngest in Institute history, I believe."

"Finally, one thing you're good at," Sebastian said with a grin. "Maybe this is the achievement you need to impress Clary."

"You might be on to something. Maybe we should invite our partners from the program to a pickup game. They can sit with the cheerleaders and revel in our greatness. What do you say, Alec, next week's activity?"

"Nah, Magnus would never go for it," Alec said lightly, trying not to think of 90 minutes of standing around waiting for a ball that would never come with Magnus doing nothing but stare at him. Pure torture. And definitely not the kind of thing he should be thinking about in the locker room.

He was saved by a text from Isabelle who, for some reason Alec wasn't even going to try and understand, was still at the school. She was outside the locker rooms, waiting for Jace and Alec to give her a ride home. She'd threatened to come in after them if they hadn't emerged in ten minutes. And Isabelle was just headstrong enough to do it, too.

Ten minutes later the Lightwoods were sitting outside of the locker room together, with Jace and Alec between Isabelle and the locker room door, waiting for everyone to leave so they could lock up.

"I don't know, I still think they've got a long way to go, even if they are getting better," Jace was saying, half his attention focused on his siblings and half on his phone. Isabelle had taken the initiative to friend Clary, Magnus, and Simon online, so their profiles weren't private anymore. He was scanning Clary's social media pages for ideas on how to get her to warm up to him, since his usual tactics weren't working and she had a knack for shattering his composure.

Which would be considered weird, except for all the information Clary could find out about him with barely more than a Google search, which meant it was only fair that he got to do the same. His whole life was public, and much more thoroughly detailed than the sparsely populated account Clary had. Simon had even less of a presence - most of Jace's information came from Magnus's accounts, which were so flooded with information that on the rare occasion he came across a picture involving Clary he nearly scrolled past it.

"I'm surprised you didn't forget the game completely with the amount of cyber-stalking you seem to be preoccupied with," Isabelle commented. "You should just send them friend requests instead of lurking on their accounts."

"You have your tactics, and I have mine," Jace replied without looking up.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Jace Lightwood was stumped by a girl," Isabelle teased.

"It's not the same and you know it," Jace said, running a hand through his hair. "Clary seems to hate me just for breathing. Every other girl has been flattered to have my undivided attention. Just like Simon is falling over himself to keep you content. You probably can't relate to what I'm going through with Clary."

"Simon is just falling over himself because he's clumsy," Isabelle said dismissively. "But maybe Clary's still sticking to playground rules? She's worried about what kind of a jerk move you'll pull if she lets you become her friend so she's keeping you at arm's length to combat her emotions while still insulting you to maintain your attention."

"Clary is too refined for that kind of thing. There's no way she'd stoop to kicking sand at me for attention." Jace shook his head. "Why am I discussing this with you anyways? Alec is the one I go to for talking girls. You just come up with those weird ideas. And with the orders from Mom to make friends with these guys because of 'business complications', now's not the time to take risks. Alec, on the other hand is brilliant at figuring out girls. Right, man?"

"Um, yeah?" Alec said, his throat dry. He hated talking girls with Jace. It was too hard to give Jace advice when he followed nearly everything up with a question on why. What was Alec supposed to say? That the reason he was so good at giving advice was because he and the girls both wanted the same kinds of things? Like that would go over well. He didn't know what his parents would be more upset about, finding out that he was gay or that they failed to make friends with the kids from NYU.

Parts of yesterday's phone call with his mother still haunted him. _"We've gotten intel that one of our competitors is very interested in Clarissa Fray, Jace's partner,"_ she'd said in an eerily calm voice she used when she meant business. _"We expect him to work very hard to make friends with her, and we expect him to be so successful that if we asked for a favor she'd readily give it. Not to say that you and Isabelle are off the hook - Clarissa appears to place a lot of weight on the opinions of her friends. Failure is not an option. Especially considering Jace was one of the main ringleaders for this latest fiasco with NYU."_

Isabelle snapped her fingers in front of Alec's face, jolting him out of his thoughts. "Are you really trying to tell me that playing wingman for Jace is the reason you've never dated anyone? And don't pretend like you weren't paying attention."

"I thought we were solving Jace's problems with the program," Alec said, and even thoughts of his parents catching him were unable to keep the blush from rising to his cheeks.

"Yes, but I'm not the only one with trouble dealing with my partners," Jace said, finally turning off his phone and turning the full force of his attention on his brother. "You really should be more assertive, Alec."

"Now you're the expert on building relationships?" Alec said, wanting nothing more than for the conversation to be over.

"I prefer to fix other peoples' problems so I don't have to deal with my own. And if you stand up for yourself instead of acting like you want to curl up in a corner and die, you'll probably have a much better time. He probably only says weirdly suggestive things like that because he knows it gets under your skin. If you give as good as you get, he'll leave you alone."

"You want me to watch him incessantly and drop innuendos in every other sentence?" Alec asked, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. Did Jace think that… he was…

Alec took a deep breath. He'd spent the better portion of his life trying to bury that part of himself - there was no way Jace could have guessed something like that. And Jace sucked at keeping secrets - he would have told the wrong thing to the wrong person by now, and for once Alec would be the one with his secrets splashed across the tabloids.

"You know what I mean," Jace said, rolling his eyes. Jace knew from experience that Alec could reason anyone out of a good idea - the trick was just to avoid debating the topic with him. Jace had no idea that the tactic only worked because Alec wanted nothing more than to avoid discussing that particular topic with his siblings.

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He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, running through all the possible scenarios in his head. Clarissa should be miserable now that she'd been forced into that horrific program. He had been watching her inner circle of friends for a few days - he saw them arguing with the blonde Lightwood in a restaurant that probably should have been shut down for health code violations years ago.

Yet now they were defending the Lightwoods. And if Magnus Bane would come to the Lightwoods' defense, he didn't even want to imagine what Clarissa would say about them. She was far too forgiving for her own good.

Clarissa's motives didn't make any sense to him. But then again, girls rarely did. But he knew one thing - she'd never do what he wanted without a really good reason. Not with those awful friends she surrounded herself with whispering in her ear.

He knotted his hands in his white-blonde hair - with everything he was dealing with, he really didn't need Clarissa complicating the one thing that should have gone smoothly. But he would find a way to get what he wanted. He could be patient. He'd done it for over a decade - he had no problem with dragging it out for a few more weeks to make sure everything with smoothly.

He would have to play his cards carefully, but it was doable. Starting with calling the one person he knew would offer assistance, and do so discreetly.


	7. Chapter Six

**** Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. ****

* * *

"I wasn't made to wake up this early on Saturday mornings," Raphael groaned, pulling the brim of his hat down over his eyes.

"Look on the bright side - at least there's no traffic," Magnus said cheerfully. He was used to running on little sleep - early mornings were a price he was willing to pay to be glamourous.

"Don't talk to me about brightness," Raphael moaned, slouching down in the passengers' seat. He'd stayed out all night, only stumbling into their apartment at 3 in the morning. It was a miracle he hadn't woken up Magnus. That would have just invited more questions than Raphael wanted to answer.

"Well, you need to cheer up soon, because we're nearly to the library," Magnus replied, glancing up into his rearview mirror to see Clary and Simon. They were both asleep in the backseat, leaning haphazardly against each other. If he didn't know better, Magnus would have thought they were in a relationship. As it was, Magnus was just glad they weren't drooling on his upholstery.

"Coffee," Clary grumbled, apparently not as asleep as Magnus thought.

Magnus glanced at the clock - if they stopped, they'd be late for sure. But then again, they'd be in trouble if they fell asleep in the middle of the class. They might as well be happy when they received their punishment.

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"Where are they?" Isabelle hissed, looking at her watch. It was 9:59, and Clary, Simon, Magnus, and Raphael were nowhere to be seen. She doubted they would just ditch class - Professor Fray looked as surprised at their absence as everyone else - but what could have kept them from being there on time? Especially with Professor Starkweather in charge - everyone in the Institute knew not to break his rules. And those who dared to be defiant never made that mistake twice.

"They still have thirty-five seconds," Alec said, glancing worriedly at the door.

"They must be in a fatal accident of some sort," Jace said, resting his chin on his hands. "The only way Professor Starkweather will forgive them is if at least two of them are mortally injured."

"I wish I could say you were joking," Isabelle said, biting her lip. Professor Starkweather was unpredictable at the best of times, and he was definitely not in a good mood now.

At 10 o'clock exactly Professor Starkweather started shouting a lecture on the importance of punctuality and fulfilling their duties. He was completely undeterred by Professor Fray's meek attempts to calm him down. Isabelle almost hoped that the missing NYU students didn't show up so they wouldn't have to face the professor's wrath.

But as if Isabelle had summoned them the door to the classroom swung open, revealing the four missing students with coffee in hand. Isabelle frowned - didn't they realize what it meant that they were late to class? And Professor Starkweather's, at that? What were they teaching them over at NYU?

Professor Starkweather's ranting switched to something unintelligible, which according to Alec was some dead language usually associated with demons that the professor probably picked up in the war. This wasn't the first time the Professor had gotten so angry, but most kids at the Institute knew to run when the Professor started spouting nonsense. Unfortunately, the NYU students didn't have horror stories from upperclassmen to prepare them.

"He's going to kill them," Alec said, a look of horror on his face.

"That would certainly not be good for the goals of the program," Jace said, glancing around the room. He had always avoided Professor Starkweather's punishments by distracting him with someone else's infractions. Luckily there was a room brimming with tension that could be used to his advantage.

He grabbed Alec's notebook, ignoring his brother's glare as he tore out a piece of paper. He balled it up and threw it directly at the one person that could always be trusted to start a fight: Bat Velasquez. He was careful to pretend to be preoccupied when Bat turned towards the Institute's side of the room with a snarl, hiding his own grin when Sebastian was stupid enough to actually smirk back at him.

"So starting a fight is in the spirit of the program?" Alec hissed.

"Clary, Simon and Magnus don't seem like the type to get in fist fights," Jace replied with a shrug. "And I'm more concerned about our parents' orders than actually making the program a success. "Now hush so I can pay attention to when I need to duck."

Bat practically flew out of his seat and tackled Sebastian out of his chair. Jace wasn't beneath fighting to get something he wanted, but he preferred not to get directly involved. His parents would disapprove of him getting caught, after all.

More than half of the room got involved in the fight, either intentionally or by getting dragged in by the person beside them, but the Lightwoods remained seated. Nobody really expected them to get involved, since everyone at the Institute knew how strict their parents were. And with so many people involved that even Professor Starkweather couldn't immediately get control of the room, it wasn't like anybody was keeping track.

Five minutes later the chaos had mostly cleared up, with most people suffering only minor injuries. But any relationship mending that occurred in the past week was certainly destroyed. In fact, the room might even be worse off than it was before. With the exception of the Lightwoods, of course.

Jace met Clary's narrowed eyes across the room and offered a gracious smile in return. He motioned them over - as much as Professor Starkweather looked as though he was thoroughly preoccupied with yelling at the students about fighting, it wasn't a good idea to tempt fate by leaving a reminder of what was happening before the room descended into chaos.

"I saw you throw that," Clary hissed through gritted teeth as she slipped into the chair next to Jace. "You know I could have handled the situation myself, right?"

"By doing what, painting him to death?" Jace replied. "Professor Starkweather's from my school, not yours, and let's just say we have stricter punishments over there than you're probably used to. It's not like you'd have just gotten a detention and been sent on your way."

"He's still a teacher - what could he possibly have done?" Clary said uncertainly.

"Perhaps I'll tell you one day," Jace replied, wincing at the thought of the punishments he'd suffered at Professor Starkweather's hand. Sometimes he wondered how the man was still allowed to teach. "But for now, just consider it a gift in the spirit of making new friends and let's move on with our lives, shall we?"

"Fine. Thank you. But this doesn't mean we're suddenly the best of friends or anything," Clary said, but she was grinning.

"Of course not - I'd prefer to jump straight to being lovers," Jace replied, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

Clary laughed. "I take it back, you're every bit as bad as I first thought. Of course, nothing will ever happen between us if we all get expelled for the fight."

"No need to worry about that, either. I have a plan, as always. I never do anything halfway." Jace raised his hand, immediately the picture of perfect innocence. "I have a wonderful event to share, Professors. I'm just so happy about being part of the program, and I feel as though we should get back to it."

Clary thought she heard a snort from Sebastian, and she couldn't blame him. She'd only just met Jace, and she could already tell he'd never say something like that without a really good reason.

"I think that's a lovely idea," Professor Fray said, the wide smile out of place in her haggard expression. "What did you and your partner do, Mr…?"

"You can call me Jace," he replied courteously. "Clary and I went to the movies and then got something to eat. It was quite the experience, I assure you. She has impeccable taste in movies, and the restaurant was fantastic."

Professor Fray frowned - she had gotten a complaint-filled report from her daughter the night before. But she wasn't going to argue. Not with tensions already so high. It wouldn't do for her to accuse an Institute student of lying when they just managed to settle a fight between the two schools.

"That sounds wonderful, Jace," Professor Fray said with a beam. "Anyone else care to share?"

A few more reluctant volunteers went, with Professor Fray somehow managing to come up with a new compliment for each abysmal story. Jace wasn't the only one to embellish - at soccer practice the day before people had been trading stories, each of them seemingly competing to see who had the most disastrous experience. The minor disagreements he had gotten into with Magnus didn't even rank in the top ten on the scale of verbal arguments, let alone the ones that had turned physical. But nobody would dare complain with Professor Starkweather in earshot.

"Brilliant! I'm glad the program is going so well for all of you so far," Professor Fray said, though even Jace could see the disbelief written across her face. "In fact, with all the progress that's been made, we have a special announcement to reward you. We've gotten permission from both schools to organize a weekend trip for the end of the month, with a weeklong trip at the end of the semester as a congratulations."

The classroom immediately erupted into outraged whispers that were silenced with one withering glare from Professor Starkweather.

"What about sports?" Alec asked after raising his hand. "The soccer team has games scheduled that weekend, and a tournament the week after. We don't have time, and it's very short notice to move things around."

"Considering most of you are athletes, all sporting events have been taken into account and your coaches have agreed to move the games scheduled for that weekend. We've also made arrangements with your teachers who have agreed to refrain from assigning homework for the weekend and excuse you from class the following Monday. We'll be leaving Saturday at 10 o'clock, the same time as this class usually starts, from this library, so that shouldn't be too much of an inconvenience," Professor Fray replied. "Our destination is a short bus ride away and we'll stay there Saturday evening through Monday night."

Alec went pale. He hadn't thought this program was that bad at first, but being forced to miss class? He'd have to study for hours to catch up, no matter what anyone said. Maybe he should've worked harder to get himself out of this when he had the chance.

"Where are we going?" Jace asked.

"That's a surprise," Professor Fray replied. Jace couldn't tell if she was really trying to surprise them, or if she just knew that everyone would miraculously turn up sick that weekend if they knew what they were being forced into. "We'll email you a list of things to bring later on in the week."

Professor Fray had to answer a handful more questions, but when they got too specific she declared that any more questions could be answered after class, and that the rest of the hour would be dedicated to the week's teambuilding exercise. Professor Fray started handing out spaghetti and marshmallows to each group, instructing the students to push the desks to the side to make room.

"Am I crazy, or is she clueless when it comes to making spaghetti?" Jace asked, making a face at the materials in front of him. He had never made spaghetti entirely from scratch, but he still knew the ingredients for the sauce had to at least be something red. Definitely not marshmallows.

Clary sighed. "It's not for making spaghetti, it's for a ridiculous teambuilding exercise my mom is obsessed with. Building a spaghetti-marshmallow tower - I did it once back in middle school and now it's her go-to teambuilding project." Clary made a face. "Wait, you thought we were actually going to cook something? How? We're in a library? There's no stoves? What could you even make with raw spaghetti and marshmallows? "

"Nothing with that attitude," Jace replied, glancing over his shoulder at Alec and copying his organization of their building tools. "And you should know that one of my favorite things to do is win. So I would like for us to win this competition, no matter how inane it is."

Clary started counting the ratio of marshmallows to spaghetti, already formulating a picture of the finished product in her head. "Then you've got the right partner. Years of practice means I never lose."

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Magnus watched Alec carefully - he couldn't believe the Lightwood could be so involved in separating all their materials into piles and ordering them by the level of usefulness. If Magnus didn't know any better, he'd think Alec built towers like this for a living. But he was pretty sure business majors had better things to do than play with raw spaghetti noodles.

"I can feel you staring at me," Alec said without looking up, carefully arranging their strands of spaghetti by minute differences in length.

"You can't blame me for appreciating beauty when I see it," Magnus replied easily. "Besides, you look far too focused for conversation."

"My family's competitive." Alec looked over his shoulder and scowled when he noticed that his brother had his supplies organized in an identical fashion. "We're also very good multitaskers."

Magnus arched an eyebrow. "Now you want to talk? I'm intrigued. Two days ago you seemed to want nothing more than to avoid all conversation."

"I like to reevaluate my strategies every so often, and avoiding you doesn't work, so I've decided to avoid looking at you and just imagine you're repulsive. It's working so far."

"So you found me attractive before?" Magnus asked, grinning to himself. His gaydar was never wrong.

Alec's hands stilled and he swallowed hard. He didn't even seem to hear it when Professor Fray started their timer on the tower.

"You know there's nothing wrong with that, Alec," Magnus said gently.

"Let's just build this stupid tower so we can leave," Alec said, jerkily jamming spaghetti into marshmallows at random, and snapping more strands than not. Magnus just sighed, slipping his bottle of emergency glitter out of his pocket. If they weren't going to have the tallest tower, it should at least be the most glamourous.

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"We're going to lose, I don't know why you're bothering," Simon said glumly, passing Isabelle the supplies she asked for.

"Lightwoods don't lose," Isabelle said absently, glancing at Alec over her shoulder. "For some reason, Alec doesn't seem to be getting anywhere, and Jace isn't patient enough to be good at things like this. After this morning, I doubt any other group will be feeling cooperative enough to make a real effort. We have it in the bag."

"Yeah, but Clary is the queen of spaghetti-marshmallow towers," Simon said sullenly. Sure enough, after only a minute and a half her tower was already over two feet tall, seemingly defying the laws of gravity to stay upright. "She never loses. Never."

Isabelle made a face. "Is sabotage an option?"

Even if Jace hadn't already been on the defensive, prepared for Isabelle to try and destroy their hard work, Simon was adamant Clary not be disrupted. After all, there couldn't possibly be many more occasions that they'd work together peacefully. Clary was just tolerating him for the sake of the class, and his friend deserved a little peace. After that, they'd never have anything to do with each other again. Right?

Simon barely noticed when Clary's spaghetti-marshmallow tower won by a foot and a half, and he didn't flinch when he nearly walked past Magnus' car and into oncoming traffic, only narrowly saved by Magnus grabbing his arm and yanking him out of harm's way. It had been less than a day from their unofficial ceasefire, but he had a sinking feeling that he was losing his best friend to the Institute.

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"Go on without me, I'm going to hang out with Sebastian for a bit," Jace said, tossing the car keys to Alec. "I'll hitch a ride back later."

Alec just shrugged, driving off with Isabelle. He wanted nothing more than to get away from the library. And, more importantly, Magnus. For once, he didn't care that Jace was spending extra time with Sebastian. Not if it meant he could leave without having to watch Magnus glide to his car. Out of sight, out of mind. Right?

Jace waved goodbye to his classmates from the Institute and sneered at the kids from NYU - only those who he absolutely couldn't stand since he was trying to be on his best behavior for Clary - while he waited from Sebastian to come out. He had gotten held back, along with Bat, for being the alleged catalysts for the fight.

It took 15 minutes of waiting before Sebastian came out, followed closely by the Professors, Bat, and Clary. Jace frowned - it would be a waste if she still got in trouble for being late after the effort he put in to distract Professor Starkweather. But she didn't look like she had been crying - and there's no way Professor Starkweather would have stopped before she was in tears -, so Jace assumed she was fine. For now.

"Hello," Jace said cheerfully, patting Sebastian on the back. "Nice to see you again, Clary."

"You too," Clary said, though her tone held none of the playfulness it had earlier in the evening. "I didn't realize you were such good friends with Sebastian."

Jace's confidence wavered for a half second. Could just being associated with Sebastian really hurt his chances with Clary even more? And why was he so nervous all of a sudden? Why did Clary have to make everything so complicated?

"I didn't realize there was someone at the Institute you hated more than me," Jace finally settled on teasing. It usually worked for him, but he regretted it immediately when Clary's cheeks flushed a bright red, and Professor Fray gave her daughter a stern look. Jace sighed internally. It was as though he could do nothing but stick his foot in his mouth when it came to Clary.

"I don't hate you," Clary said, but her tone said something different. Jace had a feeling their next meeting would not be anywhere near as pleasant.

"Good to know, although for the record, that was a joke," Jace lied, offering Professor Fray his winning smile. Like so many mothers before her, her stern look wavered. "I hate to cut our first meeting short, Professor, but I told my siblings that I'd catch a ride with Sebastian, and we're going to be late if we don't hurry."

"Of course," Professor Fray said, accepting Jace's vague claim of being busy without question. If only the Institute professors would be so trusting. "I'll see you soon, Jace."

"See you soon," Clary echoed, obviously glad to be on her way.

But before she could follow her mom Professor Fray held up a hand. "Give me a few minutes to talk to Professor Starkweather alone, please."

Clary frowned, but stayed where she was as her mother walked the Professor to his car. And Sebastian didn't seem inclined to leave, either, despite the excuse Jace had given to the Professor. Jace's stomach sank further. This couldn't possibly be good.

"Sounds like you still can't manage to make anyone like you, huh," Sebastian said, crossing his arms. Jace looked between the two of them - he hadn't realized they knew each other.

"Sounds like you're still an arrogant prick," Clary shot back.

"Come on, guys, is there really any reason to argue?" Jace tried to make peace, but neither side seemed to want to back down.

"I didn't start anything," Clary said defensively.

"You actually care about her feelings?" Sebastian asked, feigning shock. Jace's eyes narrowed. Sebastian knew he was putting in effort with Clary. "I thought it was only a fake relationship for the sake of the program. No strings, no attachments? Lower than a one night stand?"

"I didn't-"

"Tell me how you really feel next time," Clary said, hurt apparent on her face before being smoothed over by fury.

"Clary, wait-"

"You'd pick a girl over your friends?" Sebastian challenged. "You have no idea the type of person Clary is. But trust me, she's not the type of person to waste more time on than you have to."

"I should have known you'd never change," Clary said tightly, brushing past them and towards her mom, who was looking towards the trio uncertainly.

"Do I get to say anything?" Jace finally managed to get a full sentence out.

"No. The people you associate yourself with speaks volumes," Clary replied bitterly, getting into her mom's car and driving off.

Jace groaned internally. He was right back to where he started, if not farther back. "What the heck, Sebastian? What were you thinking?" Jace demanded, shoving his friend.

"I wasn't," Sebastian said, walking towards his car. "It's a long story. Besides, I didn't think you cared about the NYU kids."

Jace ran a hand through his hair. He could have sworn he told his friend about his parents' orders, but maybe not? Sebastian was his best friend, after all. He wouldn't do anything to hurt him, or at the very least he would have given him a warning ahead of time.

"It must involve her getting you sentenced to life in jail to warrant that kind of talk," Jace said, rubbing a hand across his face to calm himself down. It was just a misunderstanding. He'd bounce back from it. He always did. He was charismatic enough for it. "And I never said anything about her being 'lower than a one night stand'. I happen to hold most of my one night stands in quite high regard."

"Kaelie doesn't count," Sebastian said. "And it was the heat of the moment. I was thinking about Camille."

Jace snorted. Camille was well known even around the Institute, and definitely not for her high standards. "Kaelie's great. But why does Clary hate you, and why didn't you warn me?"

"We knew each other before you and your family ever came to town, so she takes things my offenses more personally than most," Sebastian replied vaguely, starting the car. "You know better than anyone that Clary doesn't need a reason to harbor a grudge against someone, especially with the whole issue of the Institute vs NYU. And, well, you know I'm not exactly the forgive and forget type."

"So when I dared you to -" Jace started, but Sebastian didn't even need him to finish the question to know what his friend was trying to ask.

"I was going to do it anyways. I thought you knew back then, with how oddly specific the dare was to my own plans. That's an even longer story," Sebastian replied easily. "Now, do you want to come back to my place, or would you rather go out somewhere?"

"If you know a club that's open at eleven on a Saturday morning, I'm all in," Jace replied, his head pounding. He could really use something to help him relax. "And we need to reorganize for Monday. Alec doubts our ability to throw a wholesome after-practice activity."

Sebastian just laughed. "It's a shame that you all doubt my abilities. Good times are my specialty."


End file.
